Darkfalling
by J.A. Carlton
Summary: The hunters realize they are becoming the hunted. Every moment counts as the first wave of evils crawl from the woodwork bent on using Sam for their own ends, while Sam tries to find a way to free Dean of the promise he forced upon him.
1. Chapter 1

Darkfalling – SN. fic.

by: sifi

Disclaimed

Loved.

--

_Damnit Sammy! what IS it with you! You keep disappearing like this and one day I'm not gonna come looking for you! _Dean stormed inside. It was a lie and he knew it. As long as there was breath in his body he'd never let his baby brother down. Tonight was no exception.

Somehow, between the local firing range where he was supposed to pick up some shell casings, and the motel Sam had disappeared leaving evidence of a scuffle and three brass casings within feet of the Impala's driver door, behind as the only sign something was amiss. It was enough.

He crept along the shadows on stealthy approach to the Early American three story that made the Bates house look like a summer camp and stopped, his breath lodged in his throat as a sharp crack, like gunfire, but somehow different split the air between his objective and him. His very blood shivered in his veins at the sound that came next. He knew that alto voice that screamed to shake windows and his knees buckled.

"What do you want?" he heard fade from the tail end of the scream.

_Son of a bitch...Oh you ass holes don't know what you've got yourselves into... I'm coming Sammy... you just hang in there little brother... _he felt his skin crawl as he clung to the outer wall, beneath one of the windows and circled toward the rear of the house.

Another _crack_ ricocheted through the night followed by another alto howl from his baby brother and it was all he could do to keep himself from tearing through the foundation stones to get to him. _Basement... he's in the basement... sadistic sons of bitches what the hell are they doing..._

"Please... stop..." Sam's voice vibrated shallowly. The timber making its way into Dean's nervous system, setting him on fire from the inside, _I gotta get IN there!_

Scanning the area quickly he dashed to the cellar doors, footsteps from around the far side of the house sliding into his ear just early enough for him to duck down and cover in the shadow.

The "Sentry" wore a black robe, the sight of which made the elder hunter roll his eyes, _Oh for the love of God! Get some originality here people! A dark coven... how the hell did they get you Sammy? How did a bunch of pretenders to the dark arts manage to get the drop on you baby brother? _he wondered and rose up to his full height, in full sight of the guard.

The man within the hooded robe watched in disbelief as a furious creature loomed out of the shadows, his heart thundered briefly until he saw the shotgun. By the time he registered what he was seeing, enough to try and call out to warn the others, his consciousness was ebbing from him.

"... you DO know! Your power can bring forth the one we need... now CALL HIM!" a sexless voice hissed in the darkness, coming through a small opening in the cellar window riding on the back of burning Blackthorn and Devil's weed tie sticks.

_What the hell are you trying to summon you freakin' idiot?_ Dean wondered, his teeth and jaw aching for how hard he had them clamped as he wrinkled his nose against the noxious odor of the incense and peered into the window, his eyes wide and heart hammering.

In the dark, on the far side of the basement, half shrouded by yet another goon in a robe, this one embossed with celestial symbols, was his baby brother, hanging from two different "I" beams by his wrists, his arms spread, and his body hoisted so high that his feet didn't touch the floor. His head hung to the side, chin over his chest which glistened darkly in the dim light of candles and hurricane lamps. _I'm gonna tear you into pieces you BITCH!_ he snarled inside as the figure before Sam stepped back and something slithered on the floor at its side.

_Oh you've got to be kidding me!_ he held his groan of disbelief as the woven strands flicked through the air, a knot at the end creating that miniature sonic boom he'd been hearing.

"Call him!" the priest or priestess ordered, flicking yet again in warning.

Sam lifted his head, blood trickling from his mouth as he rocked his head from side to side, "Not even if I knew how..."

"Call out! It's all you have to do!..."

"Go straight to hell..." Sam sneered.

Faster than lightning the arm moved, the whip flicked, wrapping itself around the young hunter's naked torso and tore free, loosing another howl from the young man as a new ribbon of flesh was cast aside and another river of blood was born.

Dean was stunned momentarily, it wasn't the first time he'd seen Sam whipped but it still made him sick. He sucked wind, watching the eight feet of braided leather wind around his little brother's torso, watched as his body twisted against his spread and bound arms, rising up against the pull of the simple and sinister device, and would have sworn that once more, just as he had in Eddy Jay's pit that he could hear the sound of Sam's flesh tearing.

_That's it!_ he thought and kicked his way through the window feet first.

"Hey!" he shouted drawing the attention of the three robed coven members, and Sammy who whimpered through his smile and let his head drop back over his chest breathing hard.

Dean pumped the shotgun firing quickly, stunning them with the mere fact that he'd shot. He knew the rocksalt wouldn't do much especially not with them wearing those robes, but the effect would be enough he hoped.

The priest or priestess was the first to recover and move to him, athame in one hand and the whip in the other. He or she flicked the whip, his arm came up defensively and he was grabbed, around the arm and around the neck, the knot at the end flicked stingingly against the side of his head just above his ear. He wound his hand around the leather and pulled with all he had. The leader did not resist, but instead used his strength against him, coming at the elder Winchester with his or her hand raised, the athame poised to enter his heart from above. Dean saw it coming, but his hands were occupied and his footing was unsteady.

"Dean..." he heard softly from his brother, and watched as the ceremonial blade seemed to jump from the hand that held it and embedded itself into the wall near the stairs.

"Sam..." Dean breathed making short work of the person in front of him then moving on to the other two, binding all three of them quickly and tightly before turning his attention to his little brother.

"Sammy..." he grimaced standing before him, his eyes tracing the ropes that bound him. "Hold on Sam..." he urged, a hand on either side of his brother's face, helping to hold it up, looking, searching those fuzzy, half closed blue-greens for signs of understanding.

He felt Sam work his muscles to nod, and stepped away, quickly scanning the basement until his eyes fell on a step stool. He moved the stool under his brother's feet and set about unbinding him.

Once his arms were free and had fallen to his sides Sam held his balance as long as he could and when he couldn't any longer, and felt his body listing to the side, heading for a fall from the stool, he felt the warm hard strength of his big brother there. Dean's arms grasped his blood soaked torso to himself and helped him down, then held him up.

Dean watched Sam waver, he knew he was going to fall and moved certainly to his side, his arms reaching around him, his body strong and ready to feel the weight of his little brother if he went all the way down. Thankfully Sam didn't lose consciousness. Dean looked around, his eyes fell on Sam's hoodie and jacket but he couldn't see his shirts in the dim light, and the coven members were starting to come around.

He grabbed the hoodie and jacket, helping Sam slide them over his battered and bloody body grateful beyond measure that they could get the hell out of there.

Guiding Sam up the stairs Dean had his cell phone out and was dialing 911. As they exited the house he was rattling off the address to the local police, and as they pulled away into the night the sound of sirens began to slice through the air from behind them.

--

Sam lowered himself achingly onto his bed while Dean salted the door and windows. His mind was numb and his body hurt, and inside of himself he heard the insistent voice, _"You can call him and he will come... you are revered! You will be adored and feared by all!"_

_It's irrefutable... it's destiny... I can't fight it... there is no atonement, there is no changing it, you're wrong Dean... you should have left me there... don't worry... I know I tricked you into making that promise... but don't worry... I'll never make you keep it... I know that now..._ he thought feeling tears falling silently down his face, drops falling from his chin onto his jeans as agony that didn't come from his body, but made him hurt just the same, racked him.

"Sam?" Dean asked softly. His heart was racing in his chest. He could taste fear in his throat as he watched the water from Sam's eyes soaking into the thighs of his jeans.

"Sam? Come on man... it's okay..." he soothed kneeling before the younger man. "Come on Sammy... let's get you cleaned up..."

Sam's eyes didn't move, they didn't blink, he sat still as a statue, the only sign of movement was his breathing, the pulse visible in his throat, and the tears that wouldn't stop.

Stilling his trembling hands Dean ran the warm water and pulled out the first aid kit. When he returned to the main room Sam hadn't moved and Dean felt a shiver shoot through him.

"Come on Sam... help me out here..." he said softly, unzipping the jacket and the hoodie, peeling both layers off his brothers' bloody torso. As he did so, places that had already formed scabs were torn open again. Dean winced, grimacing, checking Sam for signs of discomfort, for response, for anything that was normal. _This is soooo not good... what'd they do to you Sammy? Come on man... please don't be like this... _he pleaded inside while pushing the jackets off and tossing them onto one of the chairs.

"Oh jeez..." he groaned and swallowed hard looking once more at flesh that was tattered and frayed to match the psyche it housed, "Sam! Come on dude! Please!" he urged feeling the hairs on his arms standing straight up, his whole body racked in gooseflesh while he squeezed out the face cloth and started mopping the blood from his brother's body.

_Max was right... he was right... Max was right...don't worry Dean... I'll never make you keep that promise... Max was right..._

He could feel Dean's hand behind his head as the taste of amber fire hit his lips and stung its way down his throat. His nose filled with the scent of Whiskey and his hand came up, grasping the bottle while his throat worked, drawing the fluid thirstily down into his belly.

"Hey whoa easy there tiger," Dean's voice was full of glad relief as he pulled the bottle from Sam's mouth and felt their eyes connect with full awareness, "You alright now?" Dean asked.

Sam hiccoughed, belched and nodded, "...tired..." he sighed turning around and, heedless of his wounds stretched out on his bed, his jeans soaked with blood and water, whatever else was going to happen he didn't care.

"Sam... come on Sam you gotta let me help you get cleaned up, then you can sleep okay?... come on..." Dean urged.

"To hell with it Dean... just leave me alone..." Sam grumbled.

"What?!" Dean asked, certain he'd misheard.

"I said leave me alone damnit! Just ..." _Leave me alone, go away, run away, let me die, leave me a gun, go somewhere safe, get out of this life, go meet up with Laura... stay away from the big fight... keep each other happy and safe and make lots of little hunters... I don't care Dean... just leave me the hell alone and let me DIE! I CANT fight anymore! I can't... and I can't ask you to fight FOR me... Please be smart big brother... run away as fast and as far as you can... don't ever look back... Just go away and leave me to take care of my business..._ "...lemme get some sleep..." he finished and flicked the comforter over himself as sleep drew him away from his pains.

--

Sam groaned a sound of deep pain and Dean looked over from the computer, his brows furrowed and his bottom lip ragged between his teeth, _It's okay Sammy... just rest I'll watch over you... it's what I do..._ he smiled feeling the warmth of purpose flooding him for a split second before Sam rolled violently, tossing himself onto the floor, on all fours wound tightly in the comforter as his stomach heaved and his spine bowed.

_Oh shit..._ Dean lurched from the chair guessing Sam was never going to get used to whiskey in gulps, _he's a sipper alright..._ he thought grabbing a trashcan and sliding it under Sam's head as his stomach lurched and squeezed again.

"I'm sorry..." he moaned, "...no more... please... don't," he shuddered feeling himself break out into a cold greasy sweat.

"It's alright Sam... don't worry about it..." Dean took up station at his side, holding his head while his body trembled weakly.

_He's burning up..._ Dean realized and reluctantly looked into the trashcan bracing himself for a waft of rancid whiskey and stomach acid. He frowned and leaned forward a bit, his eyes certainly playing tricks on him as he caught sight of brown flecks floating in the basket.

"Oh God please..." Sam cried piteously, his stomach clenching once more, his back bowing to put a golden arch to shame as an impossible storm of dark reddish-brown flowed from him, "...nuhh...pl..se..." he moaned as his arms and legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor.

"Sam!... Sammy... come on Sam!" Dean called checking for a pulse and sighed shakily when he felt it fast and thready but strong in Sam's throat. He grasped his baby brother under the arms, and hiked him back onto the bed, making sure to lay him on his side. With the trashcan in hand Dean went into the bathroom, stoppered the sink and grimaced, turning his head and squinting his eyes as he dumped the contents of the basket into the white porcelain, knowing he had to get a good look, he had to know.

"Oh man this is gross..." he groaned casting a glance at Sam, assuring himself that he was still on his bed, still passed out. _No roof diving for you tonight little brother... not if I can help it..._ he thought remembering the last time he'd seen Sam in anything resembling this kind of condition. He'd wound up dangling by Dean's hand off the top of a four story building, having gone for a little 'Living History Spirit walk' that almost got them both killed.

The contents of the sink were unmistakable. _Blood... but none of his ribs are broken, he wasn't punctured anywhere... I sure as hell would've noticed that while cleaning him up, no trace of whiskey smell... I'm gonna puke... how the hell did he get blood into his stomach? Unless...no...no... never... Oh Man... No! _he shook his head and returned to Sam's bedside, rolling him back a bit and turning his head so he could see his gums as he lifted his lip looking for signs of fangs.

--

tbc

please R&R

Thanks, sifi


	2. Chapter 2

Darkfalling – chpt 2

by: sifi

--

_Please..._ he thought while running his finger over Sam's gums, from molar to molar, right to left and was finally satisfied as he wiped his finger on the comforter then pointed at Sam, "You don't know how lucky you are...So how the hell did you wind up with a stomach full of blood?" he asked as Sam groaned.

"Damnit Sammy, you have to be more careful with yourself man... you can't leave me alone..." _I NEED you..._ he thought getting up and rummaging through the first aid kit.

In just a second he found the thermometer strip and pressed it to Sam's forehead watching the color change quickly until the edge finally settled at 102.9. _Damnit... come on Sam... water... water and ice... _he reminded himself, pushing away the part of him that always wanted to panic when Sam wasn't perfectly healthy. A strange but terrible melody erupted from his phone and he frowned, looking at his unconscious little brother, "That better be YOUR phone..." he warned and sneered pulling his phone from his jacket pocket where the sound of REO Speedwagon's Can't Fight This Feeling hit his ears piercingly. "Jerk..." he shook his head, checked the incoming number and opened the phone with a smile.

"Hey honey..."

"Dean...where's Sam?" Laura asked sharply. She'd been called away again just a few days ago and after their talk she'd kept her word trying to be more regular with keeping in touch.

"Right here...what's up?" he asked.

"Oh man Dean... there's a freakin' uproar... I don't know what happened, I don't know what was unleashed but...You're BOTH in REAL danger... Sam's in danger... Are you where I left you?" she asked, not wanting to mention a town or specific place if she didn't have to.

Bells and whistles clanged out a warning in Dean's head and his stomach squeezed as he reached for his beer.

"Yeah... what kind of danger Laura?" he asked.

"I don't know for sure... but you have to take EVERY precaution you know how... maybe you guys need to head to Bobby's the wards are still in place..." she muttered.

"We'll wait for you here then go together..." he checked the lines of salt and ran his eyes over his little brother. "How far out are you?"

"I should be there just after sunrise..."

"We'll be ready to go, be careful," he warned while rummaging through his bag to see what other protective measures he had in there.

"I will... you too sweetie..."

"We will... see you when you get here..." he nodded and closed the phone, a bag full of mixed semi-precious stones and rock salt in his hand. At the door and windows, he added the stones to the lines that already existed there and from the curtain rod he hung a stainless steel pentacle then finished tending his brother before settling down at the computer and searching for something he'd seen embroidered on the coven leader's robe, a sickle piercing the heart of Capricorn.

"Dude I gotta start reading this site regularly..." he muttered smiling faintly through a sense of incredulity. Lines were drawn for him and he shook his head unnerved, astounded and maybe even a little amazed.

On his bed Sam groaned but did little else, "Sam... what'd they do to you man?" he asked quietly while moving to his bedside with a cup of ice water in hand.

"C'mon Sam... come on now... drink up..." he grasped him behind the head and raised him up then stuck the straw into his mouth. Sam drew hard on the straw, gulping the water down in huge droughts that made Dean smile wryly as he smirked, "Nope you weren't bottle fed for the first six months...Easy there tiger..." he said softly while pulling the straw from between Sam's parched and cracking lips.

Sam's eyes opened and met his.

"Dean?" he croaked glancing around the room.

"Hey hey... that's my boy..." Dean smiled feeling relief begin to blossom in his heart.

"Why are you still here?" Sam asked pushing himself up as sweat cascaded from beneath his skin.

"Dude... where else would I be? Look Sam... you're wounded, you're burning up and you're probably delirious..." Dean explained, gently trying to push him back down but Sam wouldn't have it. He struggled against his brother's restraining hand squirmed to the edge of the bed where he sat next to him rubbing his face with his hands.

"You're not supposed to be here... you're supposed to be with Laura... making more hunters... you're supposed to stay away from here, from the big fight.. me... you don't have to keep that promise Dean... I tricked you into it... I knew what I was doing when I got drunk that night..."

"I kinda had a feeling you set me up..." Dean nodded but watched Sam closely, "...and believe me... don't you worry about it, when the time is right, we're gonna make a whole brood of hunters... one day...besides, you think yours is the only face I wanna wake up and see for the rest of my life?" he ribbed good naturedly. Sam blinked at him, as if he hadn't heard or comprehended what he'd just said, _Oh yeah, there's definitely something off here... _, Sam was straddling delirium and Dean wasn't sure which way it was going to push him.

"You're supposed to go with Laura..." Sam repeated pushing off the bed and shambling to his bag.

"She's on her way, then we'll go..." Dean nodded rising to his feet and watching as Sam's leg buckled and he stumbled, his bag swinging wildly in his unbreakable grip.

"Alright Sam, that's enough... come on now... back to bed Francis...you need some rest... and I need to ask what happened... you hoarked up a belly full of blood Sam...you have to tell me what went down..."

Sam shook his head clutching the bag to his chest, grimacing as its hard places gouged into his wounds.

Dean caught him and guided him back to the bed then took the bag from him and tossed it back to the chair, whatever he wanted could wait. He frowned as Sam watched the bag land in the chair and raised his hand toward it with a deep sorrowful pout. He pressed his hands to his little brother's head, feeling the heat rolling out of him in waves.

"Sam I have to know..."

"They made me drink it... I couldn't get away Dean... they were strong and there were four of 'em... they held me down... cut my shirts off... I spit it out like Indy... but they just... they had a taser...and I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't stop them..." he choked feeling another round of tears coming. _Why can't I do anything right? I'm cursed... I'm a curse on this whole family and everyone I meet... don't you get it Dean? You'll be so much better off without me around... _

"They tased you?" Dean frowned angrily, he hadn't seen any burns, but then again it could've been under any of the skin tears from the whip. "With the blood... did you see them put anything in it? Did you see where they got it?" Dean asked frowning intensely, _Animal or human? God what else now?_

"...heard something squeal...there was stuff in it..." Sam moaned remembering the texture of something he'd tried to spit out. He rolled onto his side, facing his brother as his hands reached out, he breathed in shakily before shoving Dean with all he had.

"Whafa! Sam what the hell're you doin'!?" Dean demanded landing unceremoniously on the floor, taken completely by surprise.

"Go 'way Dean..." _Don't go..._ "Leave me alone..." _Please don't go... save me please..._

"I'm not goin' anywhere Sam... you're sick is all, probably drugged too... you'll be better in the morning and we'll figure this all out..." he assured his little brother, but still couldn't shake the image of that athame flying out of the Coven leader's hand and imbedding itself into the cement. _Was that you Sam? Did you do that? Are you starting to get a grip on these abilities of yours finally? and... just exactly when am I supposed to start worrying? _

"Get Out!" Sam spat venomously even as Dean sat beside him once more.

"Open your mouth..." he instructed holding Sam up again. He was wringing wet with sweat as were the bed sheets beneath him. Lines of red and pink marred the sheets where the torn flesh was refusing to cease its bleeding and Dean frowned pressing two Tylenol between Sam's teeth then giving him the straw again.

"You get 'em down?" he asked a moment and a swallow that sounded painful, later.

Sam nodded, "...really should go Dean... don't want you to die cause of me..."

"Alright now knock it off Sam... I told you before, I'm not dying, and neither are you!... I _am_ going to hold you to letting me out of that promise though... just for the record..." he paced before his little brother who nodded with a faint smile tilting the corner of his mouth.

"...'kay..." Sam slurred letting his eyes close and his body sink into the darkness that awaited him, _Good... you're free Dean... I just have to be smart about this... he has to live. _

--

Dean gulped down the water from his bottle and returned to the first aid kit once he was fairly certain Sam was asleep again. This time he rummaged and found a vinyl glove. He stood at the sink and grimaced, squeezing the bottle a bit so that suction would help draw what he wanted, into it.

"Eeew this is soooo gross..." he groaned making sure the mouth of the bottle was as close to as much of the undigested blood as possible, _I knew there was a reason I made you stick your fingers into that decapitated vampire's head... _he thought toward Sam. When the bottle was almost full he set about cleaning up then sat back in front of the computer and started looking for laboratories in the area.

By the time his eyes were falling closed he'd pulled the heavy chair up beside Sam, tossed his bag onto the rack and had his feet propped up on Sam's bed. Whatever might happen, he'd be there, _I won't let you down Sam... I'll help you get better, and I'll help you see that your only destiny is to become what YOU CHOOSE... Remember I'm the big brother and that means I'm always right! _

--

Gravel crunched under Sam's boots, the sound of his footfalls stretched in his memory. The bell on the door of the firing range spoke of his departure, and across the lot the impala beckoned patiently.

"Excuse me sir?" came the voice, slow and heavy in his ear for the second time that night.

It took a moment to realize the voice was addressing him. There was something strange about it, he felt his brows furrow as his head came up and he looked to his left.

_Nuh no... don't look... run..._ he heard himself think but it was too late.

An instant of heavy hard stinging pain at the back of his head and he watched the box of shells explode from his hands. His palms filled with sharp earth as brass danced away under the florescent lights of the parking lot.

Another instant of that same hard stinging pain, in the same place on his head and he was loved by darkness.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi


	3. Chapter 3

Darkfalling – chpt 3.

by: sifi

--

Hidden in the fuzzy edges of awareness he felt rough bony hands cut into his muscles, lifting him, moving him, and as sight of the impala receded, that awareness too was finally gone.

--

He awoke to the feel of hot dry knobby fingers over his chest and belly and the distinct sound of scissors at work. He tried to move but his arms were stuck. His eyes opened to dark, soft sepia unfamiliarity. Lines criss-crossed themselves above him, pressure burned at his wrists and he was cold. The cold was seeping upward, crawling through him from behind, his back felt numb and pained at once. Somewhere behind him something not-human screamed and then fell silent. Chenille blackness wrapped itself around him once again.

--

"Drink..." he heard and felt his head lifted. A cup pressed to his lips, the metal cold though the thick metallic fluid that was poured into his mouth was hot.

_Whafa!?_ he thought spitting the viscous fluid out. He felt it roll hot and thick down his chin while a bitter taste filled his mouth and his tongue worked granules of something, the thought of what it could be making him want to retch, to its tip to be spat out.

"Hold him..." the voice said.

_No! Lemme go! What're you doing? Don't..._ his mind protested while he whipped his head back and forth. His vision was still dark and cloudy, and shadows warped any sign of identity, gender, or recognition. He felt himself kick, trying for a leg sweep, a simple front kick, anything.

"Aaahh how!' he heard himself call unexpectedly as a body's worth of weight seemed to leap down onto his long legs.

_Man... I can't... come on Sam! Pull it together! _he remembered and forced himself to begin focusing. He took in his surroundings and realized quickly he was in a basement.

The one that sat on his legs leaned forward, hands on his hips as he tried to pull his arms free, to buck or throw the person off of him. The weight was substantial but there was no way to tell if it was a man or a woman.

"What do you want?" he growled feeling as if his tongue had just gained a pound while sitting in his mouth, "Who are you?" his voice bore a challenge while his eyes traced the ropes that bound his wrists so taut away from him. Whoever these people were, they were NOT amateurs. He had no slack. _I gotta stay sharp... gotta keep my eyes open for an opening... they're bound to screw up eventually..._

"We want you to drink... fulfill your destiny..." the sexless voice on his left said simply while wrapping a black clad arm around his neck. The fingers that pried against his jawbone felt like rocks while two more sets of arms grasped him and pinned him hard to the floor. The leader's free hand pressed down on his jaw and again the chalice was tilted to his lips.

He spat and wondered if his assailants had seen the Temple Of Doom too. _Yeah, who hasn't right?_ he thought as one of the hands clamped over his nose, and the other held his mouth shut until he fell still beneath them.

He felt the pressure ease, felt the hand withdraw from his mouth, allowing him a blissful lung full of air before his mouth filled again with that bloody bitter brew. His body heaved, his back bowing and arching as he simultaneously spat the concoction into the recess of the leaders hood, his feet and legs moved quickly, momentum cast the one on his legs off toward the stairs on his right. Another fell to the ferocity and lengthy reach of his foot and as he was summoning his momentum for an effort to roll back and gain his footing. Twin spires of high vibration heat sailed through him, taking not only most of his consciousness, but his ability to fight as well. He wished, as they forced the contents of the chalice into his unresponsive body that it had taken his awareness.

"You shouldn't fight so hard... your destiny is glorious, you should embrace it..." the leader spoke as he or she slowly poured the contents of another chalice full into him, mindful of what they were doing, mindful of whether he could swallow, or listening to his breathing to make sure it wasn't flowing into his lungs. They obviously didn't want him to die, at least not yet.

"Nuuh..." he was able to groan and felt his head fall forward, _No more... please... stop..._ he wondered how long it was going to be before he threw up and maybe drowned in his own aspiration.

"He'll be grateful..." one of them said.

"We'll be rewarded..." another concurred.

"For this one... he'll finally come," the third added.

"For this one he'll come..." the leader assured.

"...Oooh?" Sam could almost feel his lips again as the effect of the taser started to abate, _Who are you trying to summon? WHAT are you trying to summon?_ as a different kind of numbness traded places with that caused by the electric charge.

"Get him up..." the leader ordered and the rope-burn heat in his wrists turned white hot as his body was raised by them, so hard, so high, so taut he felt his feet leave the ground and though he reached with his toes and strained with everything he had, he could find no purchase on the earth he knew was below him.

Bitterness grabbed the underside of his tongue and made him want to gag, _there was something in there... bastards drugged me with something... I can't move!_ he realized while trying to flex any part of himself, his foot, his knee... nothing. It seemed the only thing that was able to keep moving was his heart and lungs, _Curare does that doesn't it? Crap... who the hell ARE these people!?_

The leader approached and stood before him. His or her right hand was stretched out to the side, palm open to receive the long handle of what Sam realized quickly was a whip. The leather hissed on the floor, the end flicking so much like a cat's tail and Sam groaned inside, _Oh man... not again... Can I have the choking back?... really... I'll take the choking instead... at least it's not a chain this time..._ he thought and actually felt movement as the corners of his mouth tilted upward at his private joke.

"Call out..." the leader instructed. The wrist moved, the tail of twined leather wrapped around his waist and tore as it was yanked cruelly back, a single pop punctuating the first lash as the knot impacted with his skin.

_I can't move... but son of a bitch I can sure as hell FEEL! What the hell did they drug me with?! _he wondered stunned silent at the depth of the sting he was feeling. It was as if whatever was in that mix they'd poured into him hadn't deadened his sense of feeling, but instead had heightened it. _I can't move, I can't fight... I can't stop this!_

"Whu..." he felt tumble from his lips as he focused on working his jaw to make words instead of just sounds.

"Call to him..." he was told again.

"Who?" he finally choked.

"CALL OUT!" the leader ordered harshly, still no hint of gender or age to be heard within that strange, almost inhuman voice.

The arm drew back again, the leather came up from behind and over his shoulder, the knot cracking against his sternum, digging into the flesh there, trying to hold on as fire lit over his shoulder, at the base of his neck and skin scraped loose. His own warmth was drawn to the surface in a slow trickle to start.

"No..." he gasped and found he could shake his head.

"Athame..." the leader said holding out his or her left hand to receive the ceremonial blade.

Sam watched the hooded figure come closer, his senses far too keen for his liking, his eyes working hard to focus, willing the layers of darkness under that hood to peel back and reveal the face inside.

"You will call out... it will come for you. You will be revered... your destiny will be fulfilled you will hunt as you've never hunted before..."

The darkness spoke and Sam felt himself shudder, _No... I don't... I won't... whoever you are you know waaaay too much about me already, no way in hell I give you what you want... no way. You'll have to kill me first you sadistic freak!... _

"Do it..." the leader nodded to someone on their left.

Sam's head rolled as one of his captors turned and approached, a tiny something glinted in their hand. A step stool was placed beneath his out-stretched right arm and the person climbed up. A finger tapped at his elbow and he frowned as what he would've swore was a dull straw was threaded under his skin. He could see it was a needle and couldn't believe something that small could feel so large. _It's gotta be whatever they drugged me with... it's gotta be... gonna hafta find out what the hell it is! What the hell are they doing?_ he wondered watching his own blood flow in a river, out of his vein and into the chalice another of them held beneath his arm. It took a moment but he finally recognized the odd shaped needle thing as an I.V. catheter, and he gained more information, _Well at least one of them's probably a nurse or something... this could be bad..._ he watched the robed acolyte press down on the vein in his arm, remove the catheter and tape a wad of something, presumably cotton or gauze in place.

He craned his neck and watched as another of them poured the chalice of his blood into the bubbling contents of a saucepan on a hotplate.

"Aaaahhhh!" he crowed feeling a line of cold and hot drawn into his waist.

He looked down and watched the leader drag the athame across his flesh, coating the blade edge in his blood.

_Son of a BITCH that freakin' hurts!_ he thought panting, trying to keep his breathing even as the other three returned and stood with the leader, their heads turned and angled upward toward him, _how is it that none of those hoods have fallen back yet? I need to see your faces you sons of bitches..._

"We drink of you, chosen of our God. We drink to you..." the leader spoke and tilted the chalice.

"We drink of you, chosen of our God... we drink to you..." the second one spoke taking the chalice and drinking as well, before passing it on to the third.

Twice more this phrase was uttered and the acolytes drank, and each time Sam could have sworn he was going to throw up. He was dizzy and nauseous, racked with pain and the words they were speaking were starting to pierce his defenses.

_What the hell do they think they're doing? You People are SICK! TWISTED! Whatever you think you're doing you don't know! God this is seriously dark ritual... Man... Blackthorn and Devil's weed are bad enough... but sacrifice and blood rites... MY BLOOD! You SICK BASTARDS! I DON'T WANT IT! NONE OF IT! _

The step stool was pushed behind him and one of the hooded figures rose up, pulling his body against its own. Fingers curled into his sweat soaked hair and yanked his head back. He could feel his muscles trying to respond to his command, trying to shake his head, to make it impossible for them to do what he knew they were going to do, but whatever they'd poisoned him with was still working and agonizingly slow to wear off.

One more time the chalice was pressed to his lips and its contents slid down his throat, a hot, thick, coppery syrup tainted with God only knew what, and now mixed with his own blood that he was forced to ingest.

He felt his tongue working, his throat stuttering over itself to ensure the liquid ended up in his stomach rather than in his lungs and when the last dregs, muddied with the remnants of herbal material flowed from the chalice, the one behind him released his head, stepped down and stood before him once more.

"Nuh... please... nuh more..." he shook his head gasping exhausted and feeling a thick strand of the evil concoction running out of his mouth, down his neck and onto his chest._ Call who? What do you want? Are you just a bunch of freaks or is it more? Who ARE you?_ he wondered fleetingly before questions blurred, thoughts became elusive and existence took center stage.

A shiver shook him violently and his teeth snapped closed, barely missing his tongue as the leader said something to one of the others who disappeared up the stairs.

"You can call him and he will come... you are revered! You will be adored and feared by all!"

_That's a bad... sounds bad... _"Nuho.." he shook his head.

"It's your destiny hunter! You think you were chosen by accident?! All this? All this has already come to pass... all you have to do now is embrace it... bring it forth again..."

The leader came to stand before him the voice low and certain, and still un-revealing as to what or who might be under the cloak as he or she explained, "I was told you would resist... and I was told that you would fail. I have seen the moment of your fall Sam Winchester...it was shown to me... a gift... now all I have to do is make it happen, the hour is coming... rest assured, it's coming."

"Huh?" he asked certain he'd heard wrong, "...never failed anything... well... there was that one... uhm... thing...but...when? Tell me... when'd I fall...uh fail?" he shook his head, his tongue slurring on the words that tried to get out of his mouth. _There could be important information here Sam and you're just spacing your way through it? Come on Sammy... focus! _he raised his head and looked around, squinting into the darkness, _Dean? Where are you man? Are you here? _

"The time is coming soon now... I've seen it... have no fear and don't fight what has already come to be..." the leader's voice insisted.

_What?... what the hell are you saying? what do you mean it's come to pass? Has this already happened? Is it happening again? Oh God... what if I can't stop it? What if Dean's wrong? Oh God how can I fight something that's been done?... oh god I think I'm gonna be sick..._

Three cracks of sharp thunder peppered the air in the basement and for each one of them that rent his flesh and crumbled his defenses, Sam screamed.

"You're a favorite, call him..." came the order followed by another lash, another thousand agonies as the spaces in the braiding grabbed the edges of his fraying skin, digging, grasping and tearing. Every freshly raised edge of once vibrant skin torn, breaking, yanked forcibly from its mooring, blood flowed, droplets rising to the surface, trying to bring peace and healing to the wounds being created. Blood mixed with his sweat, the sticky cells unable to gain purchase for his body's oils, his chest and belly turned shiny red and his back and sides pink as the order to 'Call Out', each followed by a lash came again and again and again. Sam counted the strikes at first, then stopped after ten. He didn't want to know anymore.

_Don't call out... don't...even if it came before doesn't mean it has to be again... please let me die... please don't let me turn evil... God I don't want to hurt anyone... but I already have... so many people have suffered because of me... Mom and Jess and Dean... oh God Dean... what if I hurt him? The only person who never lost his faith in me... what if I can't stop it? I can stop it... pre-emptive strike... yeah... maybe these sons of bitches'll kill me and I won't have to do it myself..._ not a single thought was fully coherent, or fully realized in the upper layers of his consciousness, but beneath the surface, they swam, an aquatic ballet of concept and emotion that wrapped him in a shroud devoid of all but darkness.

He didn't know how long the torture had gone on, nor how long the respite had been, but awareness was agony with another lash of the whip. He screamed this time, feeling it had been so long in between them that he'd forgotten what the point was, if he'd known at all. "What do you want?" he tacked on to the tail end of the howl that had burst from him.

Again, the whip cracked, a shot through his nervous system and again he howled, his throat threatening to close, his entire body quaking in his bonds. He gasped feeling his head fall forward, "Please... stop..."

"You know what we want..." the leader hissed at him.

"Nuh...nuh know..." his head swung loosely back and forth over his chest as he gasped for air.

"Yes... you DO know! Your power can bring forth the one we need... now CALL HIM!"

_I'm not supposed to do that... _"nnn...ever..." Sam rolled his head back and forth again as the leader stepped back, the right arm twitching, the whip flicking, the dark wet leather heavier now, dirt and debris clinging to the wetness, the knot popped the air again.

"Call him!" the priest or priestess ordered, flicking another warning.

Slowly, from somewhere deep Sam found the strength to raise his head, he felt blood trickling from his mouth and his eyes penetrated into the darkness hidden by the hood, "Not _even_ if I knew how... or who..." he smirked.

"Call out! It's all you have to do!..."

"Go straight to hell..." he felt himself sneer then gasped as the whip came again, merciless in its speed and force, grasping his naked, beaten torso, stripping a ribbon of flesh in one stroke and birthing a river of blood in its place.

"Hey!" he heard a voice he knew better than his own. He didn't know if it was real or a dream, but if it was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

The air quaked and shattered three times quickly, thunderous explosions and Sam watched three hooded bodies fly in different directions.

He saw Dean glance around, checking the deeper shadows for others as the leader recovered and moved quickly toward the elder Winchester, the whip curling around Dean's outstretched arm and neck and he tugged, his footing skewed by the ease with which the leader moved toward him, the athame still in the left hand and now raised high, the edge, encrusted with Sam's blood ready to plunge into his heart from above.

_No! Not Dean!_ Sam whimpered desperately and felt his mouth move, "Dean..." then felt as if something had burst out from him. He watched the athame leap from the leader's hand and shoot straight into the cement wall by the stairs. His breath came short and his body broke another layer of sweat.

--

tbc.

same old request

please R&R...

Thank you.

sifi


	4. Chapter 4

Darkfalling – chpt 4.

by: sifi

--

"You sure you don't want to stay in the car?" Dean asked casting a sidelong glance at his younger brother who was outpacing him with those long legs of his, to the house.

"I'm sure," Sam nodded with a soft smirk, "I'm fine Dean... don't worry," he admonished.

"Sure what's to worry about? Bunch of cult freaks snatch and torture my baby brother and neither of us get a look at their faces we're so bent on getting out of there, so really they could be anyone in this craphole town, including the cops we called last night, so it's not like we can expect help from anyone...but then again... what's new?" he snarked bitterly, his vehemence hitting Sam hard.

"Dean... it's okay... we'll see what we can find out here, meet Laura back at the motel then head out to Bobby's..." Sam assured him softly.

Dean nodded, "Yeah... I don't like it though Sam... these are people... but they might be possessed, OR they might just be your garden variety cult freaks... either way, unless they ARE possessed there's not a whole lot we can do... unless you wanna draw a Seal around the local courthouse and try and exorcise 'em...hey that's an idea..." he began to contemplate the logistics of doing just that while Sam's face split into his trademark deeply dimpled grin.

"After this morning's "Twinkie-talk" it might be more important to get to Bobby's and see if we can find out exactly what happened to cause the surge in activity... I mean maybe its just part of the natural fluctuation but Laura doesn't seem to think so, and with what we're fairly sure was happening up in Washington, and then the whole River Grove thing with the virus... We KNOW something's happening, and it's a pretty safe bet it's gonna be big..." Sam ticked off the growing list of events that seemed to be pointing toward something scary big, on the way.

"Yeah... we do know that don't we?" Dean nodded through a surge of pride that even with everything they'd both, but mostly Sam had been put through recently, he could still keep his head. _One of these days Sammy you're just gonna make me break down and tell you how proud I am of you aren't you? You're just gonna force me to give you that damned hug, and tell you just how much I love you aren't you little brother?_ he smiled to himself.

Sam nodded, "... and we both know... what they did to me last night... I just wish I knew what they were trying to summon..." he muttered. _"He'll come for you... We'll be rewarded... You'll be revered... feared..." _then a whisper beneath the memory of those words, _"...it's your destiny... embrace it..."_

"They didn't chant any names? Zuul... Gozer the Gozarian...?" Dean double checked with a smirk.

Sam shook his head, "They just seemed to think it would come if I called..."

"You think it was the yellow eyed demon?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head and frowned, "I don't know...I didn't have a vision or anything..."

"But you did shoot that athame out of that s.o.b.'s hand..." Dean pointed out then paused looking curiously at Sam, "You DID shoot that athame out of his... her... you DID do that right?" he asked.

Sam nodded and his face clouded over. He had no regrets about that ability surging out of him when it did, he had nothing to be sorry for, he very possibly saved his brother's life last night, but it was more than a little unlike what happened at Max Miller's house with the cabinet in front of the closet door, the completely reflexive use of this particular ability with the vision of Dean's brains bursting out of his head against the wall. Where that instant seemed to have taken something from him to make that cabinet move, last night's use seemed almost intentional. Yes, the sense had flowed from him hard and fast, but it hadn't felt uncontrolled, in fact it felt like the slow lowering of a barbell with almost too much weight on it, shaky but certain the weight could be lowered and not dropped.

Dean saw the look on Sam's face and stopped. He grabbed his brother by the shoulder and turned him so they were facing each other, "I know what you're thinking... and don't you buy into it!..." his expression changed, "What you did might very well have saved my life... there's nothing evil about that!" he insisted.

Sam took a breath, "And just what am I NOT supposed to buy into Dean? The fact that these sons of bitches seemed to think I could call up some Godfather of Sadism or something just by willing it? What if they were right? What if every step I take, every little grasp I get or every little bit I use these abilities just opens the door a little more? Every taste of some kind of power or achievement with this... this... THING?! I'm human Dean! every human has the potential to be corrupted... and this kind of power that might be in here..." _"I've seen you fail... I've watched you fall... I have only to make it happen..." _he tapped himself on the chest and winced for the wounds beneath his clothes, "NO ONE should have that! NO one should have to..." he motioned at his brother but stopped short at the look on his face, _No one should have to carry the burden that's been laid in your arms Dean... for twenty four years you've carried me and I'm not sure you've ever even known you were doing it... _and felt his heart race in his chest as he huffed humorlessly and shook his head. _"It's already happened..."_

"I get that it scares you Sam... I really do..." he nodded.

"It scares you too... it only took Andy pushing you to let ME know..." Sam reminded him.

"That wasn't fair!" Dean protested sternly.

Sam half nodded, amused and just a little unable to understand how someone so intuitive, someone who was as successful a hunter as his older brother, could be so insistent that destiny can be changed, "Fair? What's fair Dean?... and fair or not... doesn't change the fact that it's true!"

Dean cocked his head and sighed. _I understand what you're saying Sam... but you have to have faith in me... I KNOW you! Better than you know yourself... You're no more able to go darkside than... than... than an Ewok can become a Wookie! _he thought but knew this wasn't the time to try and joke with his broody brother, "So what do we do then? We can't run or hide from whatever's going to happen, you said it yourself, you want to face this head on... well let's face it head on... but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you walk the road alone do you understand me? We do this together or we don't do it..." Dean demanded expectantly.

After a moment, Sam nodded, smiled wanly, then grasped his shoulder and turned him toward the house, "Let's go see what we can see..."

_What is it you're not telling me Sam? You're hiding something... I can smell it... Don't think I won't get it out of you... or Laura... I wonder if she would..._ he thought reminding himself to ask her later.

--

"Here..." Sam pulled a wad of yellow from his pocket and handed two latex gloves to Dean while donning his own pair, "It's an active crime scene, someone might come back..."

"Thanks," Dean nodded smiling appreciatively as he slid his hands into them. They'd been on his mind to get, but somehow he just never seemed to remember.

Sam nodded shining his flashlight around to the two "I" beams he'd been tethered to. There was no sign of the ropes that had bound him other than small frayed strands that had been shaved off, maybe when they'd raised him up. There was blood on the floor beneath the area he'd dangled and though he tried to see if there was any kind of indication on the floor where he'd originally awoken, there was too much blood, too many smudged footprints, presumably from any of the cult members or Dean or even himself.

He blinked and shook his head to clear the memory of it. His hand came up and he wiped his mouth. His tongue seemed to roll back into his throat, trying to make him gag while he fought the memories. Sweat started to bead on his forehead and upper lip and his heart picked up the pace just a bit.

"You okay?" Dean called from across the basement where he was examining the hole in the wall the athame had made. He frowned with his mouth and squinted at Sam who nodded and directed his flashlight beam right into Dean's eyes.

"Dude..." the light flicked away.

"Sorry... yeah... just..." _trying to forget, _"...trying to remember..." he turned away from Dean's obvious skepticism, sweeping the beam of light up one of the 'I' beams, the one his right wrist had been tethered to. Light shone on feathery scraps of rope as it traveled up the edge of the beam. He moved under the central support beam and stood up straight noting that it was still a good foot and a half above his head, but he could reach it easily. His light next swept the beam on what was his left and again he caught a glimpse of rough rope fibers, _I need to go back to the car..._ he thought feeling sweat drip down his back to pool in his jeans.

"Hey..." Dean's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"C'mon let's go scope the rest of the house..."

Sam swallowed and shook his head, "I'm gonna go back to the car and get a couple things... I wanna see something..."

"You got something?" Dean asked peering through the railing, though halfway up the steps that led to the house proper.

"I don't know..." Sam admitted shaking his head.

Dean tossed the keys to him and admonished harshly, "Keep your eyes open Sam... we don't know anything about these guys yet..."

He checked his watch and smiled wryly, "It's 9:30 in the morning Dean... I think bad guys and cultists tend to sleep in... probably at least until eleven..."

Dean nodded and seemed to think, "Yeah it's probably in their bylaws or something..."

"I think so..." Sam nodded.

"Just be careful," Dean reiterated as Sam disappeared with a wave up the outer stairs.

Dean moved to the kitchen and watched Sam cross the lawn toward the street where they'd parked the impala a few houses down. He frowned to himself, shook his head and turned from the window. _Sam can take care of himself... he's capable... it's broad daylight and he's on the alert... something's wrong with him though... post trauma? just stressed maybe? Who wouldn't be? He'll be alright... he HAS to be...I wish... man do I wish..._

--

Quick and watchful, Sam rummaged through the trunk until he found what he was looking for, then closed up and headed back. There were a few things he was curious about, especially after having been back down there. Noise buzzed in his head, layers of sound and the memory of sensation. He felt an odd sense of disconnectedness with himself at the moment and wondered if he'd finally caved in to post traumatic stress. _Perfect time to wimp out Sammy boy... I gotta snap out of this... it feels so... just un-real, not even surreal... I just need to know... if I'd tried just a little harder... maybe... that's crazy... we'll see what Laura gets from the lab... I can't believe Dean actually did that... that's gross... smart, but gross. _

As he crossed the lawn yet again, the cellar doors smiling benignly in the morning sunshine he chewed his lower lip deep in thought. _It's creepy dude... seriously creepy... I just have to know... I can extrapolate a probability with the right information... I just NEED to know if I'd tried harder... or if part of me didn't... _

"Stop..." he warned himself softly, his heart beating hard and his breath coming short and heavy. He descended the steps closing the doors behind himself and stood approximately where the leader had stood while administering his beating. He heard footsteps, stealthy though they were, he knew his brother's walk.

"It's just me..." he called.

"Everything okay?" Dean asked craning his head to get a view of his brother standing and sketching something on a small pad of motel paper.

"Yep... You said this morning you saw embroidered on the back of its robe a sickle piercing the heart of Capricorn... was that the Goat's head representation or was that the actual constellation?" he asked.

"It was Goat Head Guy," Dean nodded taking a few steps further down into the basement.

Sam's hand moved the pencil quickly and intensely over the paper, his eyes seeming only to flick up to where Dean had found him while he drew, "You know much about Capricorn?" he asked without much inflection.

"Why? What're you thinking?" he asked.

"You finish the rest of the house?" Sam asked.

"Nuhp... sifting through the study... very interesting book collection... you'll have to come and see it..." he tried to entice. _I don't know why, but you're giving me the shivers Sam..._

As if in response Sam's pencil stopped and he looked at Dean with a soft smile, "Give me a couple minutes... I wanna get some of this down while it's still fresh in my head..." he asked flipping the page of the stationary pad and beginning a very short list.

Dean nodded, "A'right... just come up when you're done..."

"'Kay..." Sam nodded tapping the pencil's eraser against his lower lip, his brows furrowed deep in thought.

As Dean withdrew back up to the main level of the house Sam's eyes shifted to the stairs and his head cocked to the side, his eyes tracked his brother's footsteps across the floor above him. A moment later he sighed and moved to the junction of the support and "I" beam his left wrist had been tethered to. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat as he pulled a shank of rope from his pocket and wound it around the cross section, looping one end in a slipknot once the rest of it was secured. _It's such an easy reach for me... my arms aren't even extended all the way up..._ testing his work and finding it adequate he moved to the other junction and tied a second shank of rope the same way.

Once both pieces were tied, each to a crossed section of beams he reached from one to the other. Either his left or his right hand could grab the slipknot but not both at the same time, that much was certain.

Spying the stepstool he moved it to where he'd been and stood on it. He slid his left hand into the slipknot, the nylon of the rope tearing and grasping at the scabs that had formed around his wrists in the night. Next he strained to reach the one on his right but he could and did. He wiggled his right hand into the noose and gave a tug, then realizing he had too much rope there, wound it once more around his wrist, sweating and straining to do so, until his shoulders cried out in protest and he was in almost the exact same position as he'd been when Dean arrived.

Slowly he bent his knees, letting his weight settle between his shoulders and his wrists. When his feet came completely off the stool, he gently slid it out from under him and let himself hang. He looked down, breathing quietly through his mouth, his muscles straining against his weight pulling on them, and extended his foot. At his deepest stretch his toes were still a good inch or two off the floor.

He felt his jaw clench, his flesh break out in a sweat that rolled down into the waistband of his shorts, his arms pulled and above him the floor creaked. He shifted his hips, straining, reaching for the floor, willing himself to be able to put a foot down on the earth below him, but no matter how he moved, pulled, shifted or strained, those couple of inches between his toe and the ground mocked him. _Inches to freedom and I STILL can't do it... just a couple inches and I would've been free... _he could feel that stereotypical ball of hot rage coiling inside his chest and he wanted to scream. His chest and arms squeezed, pulling at the ropes, pulling open the small tears in his skin yet again, he wasn't sure if it was blood or sweat that was still rolling down him and he didn't care. He wanted to be able to pull hard enough to rip these beams down, to break the welds that held them to the support beam overhead and tear this very place to pieces. But mostly he just wanted to scream. _So close... just so freakin' close and I couldn't do it... I couldn't save myself..._

--

tbc.

please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi.


	5. Chapter 5

Darkfalling – chpt. 5

by: sifi

--

Sam felt his breath hitch, and his throat clasp tight as he reached his toe forward to hook it under the lip of the step stool.

"What the hell!" Dean barked and hopped the rest of the stairs then ran to Sam and wrapped his arm around his little brothers' legs while kicking the stool under his feet.

_Oh great..._

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Dean yelled furiously and set to work untying Sam's left hand while he unwound his right and worked the slipknot a little looser to release himself.

Sam shook his head and stepped down from the stool just as Dean's hands closed on his jacket and he jerked his attention to himself, "Huh!? What the hell did you think you were doing Sam?!"

Sam shook his head yanking free from Dean's grip and started untying the pieces of rope he'd brought, "I just needed to see if there was anything I could've done that's all..." he explained softly.

Dean's face fell in disbelief, "You... heh... you just wanted... what the...?!" he asked still wrapped in a layer of angry fear, "Have you lost your freakin' mind! Are you freakin' stupid! Sam?! Huh!? You just wanted to know if you could've _DONE_ something? Knocked out, beat to hell, trussed up like a freakin Christmas turkey, and let's don't forget probably drugged... Whipped Sam! Whipped okay...? After Eddy Jay's little playroom I swore I'd _never_ let anything like that happen to you again! and sure enough! then tased on top of it all and you wanted to know if there was something you could've done?" he breathed hard and rubbed his hand through his hair trying to make any kind of sense of... any of this. Over and over in his mind's eye he saw the basement again, as it had been last night after he'd slid through the cellar window. His little brother strung up in a cross-less crucifixion, his feet a good six inches that must've felt like miles above the floor, his body beaten and bloody. He remembered choking on his own air at the sight of it.

"Dean..." he said softly meeting his older brother's eyes, those green tinted windows Sam could see through so easily, _he's blaming himself again... it's not your fault Dean... none of this is your fault... if it wasn't for me you would have had everything you still crave... if it wasn't for my existence you'd have everything you deserve... _"I needed to KNOW..." _but for your heart big brother... I thank God every day for you... do you know that? Don't worry... you'll be free... I have a feeling sooner than either of us might realize. _

"All you had to do was ask... you were strung up too tight, no one could've done anything Sam, not you, me, Dad... none of us, no one okay?" he said much more softly, his anger quenched by the memory of last night's fear. _Don't DO this to me please! You don't know how much what they did to you scared me! _

Sam nodded tucking the pieces of rope back into his pockets and pulling out his flashlight again, this time sweeping it left along the rear wall, the area that had been his right last night. The area he'd heard something not human scream as it was sacrificed.

"Sam..." Dean started after scrubbing his face on his jacket sleeve, "...aside from the obvious... what's goin' on with you?" he asked.

The younger hunter shrugged, "Nothing... really, I just wanted to know if I could've done something to get myself out of it last night... whatever they spiked that blood with screwed with my perceptions... inches looked like feet... it was kinda like everything was exaggerated..."

"Hallucinogen you think?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head examining a trail of spatter that arced across the wall. On the floor there were a surprisingly few drops of blood to be found near one of the support beams that ran up the side edge of the stairs. He crouched and shone his light on the wall noting the height of the spatter was about two and a half feet from the floor. There were short pieces of coarse blonde and black hair near the beam, the amount of shed indicated that whatever had been chained or bound there hadn't been bound for more than a few hours maybe. He grasped a few of the hairs and held them up to the light.

"Maybe... I don't know..." _and a paralytic agent, and maybe God only knows what else, looks like goat hair... but I didn't hear any baaa' ing or anything...I really wouldn't mind throwing up right now...well okay I would but... I think I'd feel better..._

"What cha got?" Dean asked looking over his shoulder then shining his own light on the evidence of animal sacrifice.

"Looks like goat hair..." Sam said, lurching to his feet, his stomach clenching, _Goat's blood, they made me drink goat's blood... oh man... oh man... puke... _a wave of hot and cold took turns stroking him and he lurched toward the stairs that would take him outside, _they mixed MY blood in with it... they drank it, they made me drink it... oh shit... _he could feel his gorge rising in the back of his throat and just outside the cellar doors fell to his knees in the grass gasping for air, trying not to throw up, trying to breathe it down as Dean arrived at his side. He knelt silently with one hand on his baby brother's back and the other under his forehead just in case.

_A blade in the heart of Capricorn... the Ram, Goat's blood, MY blood, sacrifice... Dean do you have ANY clue? Capricorn and Enki, Enki and Cernunnos, Cernunnos... YOUR patron deity... take out the base the pillar crumbles... don't you GET it Dean? Oh God..._ his stomach clenched and his teeth chattered hard, snapping on his tongue as a blade of ice sluiced through him, _I'll never hurt you... I swear to GOD I won't let it happen... but does this have anything to do with the Yellow Eyed Demon?_ he wondered as his stomach tried to turn inside out and unleashed its contents onto the ground.

"I hate puking... just for the record..." Sam chuckled after several moments of heavy breathing.

"Yeah well at least you usually feel better afterwards..." Dean nodded concurrence as Sam wiped his mouth on his sleeve and with his brother's support got back to his feet.

Sam nodded and turned back toward the cellar door, "Let's go see if we can find out who these sons 'o bitches are and get the hell out of here huh?"

Dean smirked patting Sam on the shoulder, _That's my boy..._ "Do lets..." he snarked in a bad British accent leading the way back into the house, through the basement and up the stairs to the first floor.

"Well if it WAS a goat, at least that explains part of the smell..." Dean wrinkled his nose nodding, "...looks like the cops cleaned out the basement real good... I found some fall off from the censure sticks... which would be..."

"The rest of the smell..." Sam finished.

"Well whatever isn't decaying blood that is..."

"They didn't waste much... Dean these people... they knew what they were doing, they were practiced, they knew not to give me any slack, there were no spell books, no journals they were reading from..."

"And they had a taser..." the older hunter reminded him, still chafing at the bit at all Sam had been put through, all he couldn't protect him from, _Yet Again! _he scolded himself internally.

"Don't remind me... tell you man that's one seriously freaky feeling..." Sam shook his head.

"Yeah... don't _you _remind me..." Dean winced motioning to the stairs, "You ready to see what else we can see?"

Sam grinned shaking his head. He took a look around the basement and fighting the shiver that wanted to climb his spine, "Yeah..." _There had to have been SOMEthing... there just... HAD to...it looked so close... so... possible._

--

_I wish I had a clue who... what... what were they trying to summon? How did...who's? ...stop, don't think it, you think it you'll make it real Sam... STOP Now Please! ... maybe I can figure something out from the books... why Dean though? Why me? Why US! and how did they know what they knew?_ "Did you get a name?" he asked while scanning everything he could about the place from the moldings to the knick-knacks to the general state of the place.

"Uh, yeah..." Dean pulled an advertising flyer for the local post office from his pocket, "Ms. Alana Stebbe..." he tucked the card back into his pocket, "...gonna hafta check her out later..."

"This looks like an old lady's house Dean... not some haven for dark ritual..." _'...hunt like you've never hunted before...'_ and he could see those knobby, arthritic knuckles, feel the dry raspy heat of the fingers on his skin as his shirts were cut from him. _But strong... maybe not THAT old... _the hand that held the whip, long practiced, the force of the blows coming from the shoulder, the location directed by the wrist. With effort he quelled a shudder that set his heart racing and burned fuzzy sparklers in his depths, turning his attention to the moment.

"Since when does age mean anything when it comes to spellwork? Besides..." he and Sam met eyes as the lightbulb went on at the same time.

"How well they know the ritual..."

"How well they know what they're doing..." _They sure as hell knew too much about us, who we are... what we do... what... Enki was a mediator, does...well did he have enemies? And what about Cernunnos? Morrigan again... no... they couldn't decide if it was a he or an it... can't be her...was IT what I...? _

Sam nodded, his attention grasped and held by the light shining through the window in the study. _There have to be answers in there..._ and he strode purposefully toward them.

_Well at least his geek-hood's still in tact..._Dean sighed internally turning his attention back to the lower cabinets he'd been ransacking when he'd heard that straining creek underfoot that led him back to the basement

--

Images of Sam strung up and battered last night juxtaposed themselves with the image he'd just been forced to ingest, his baby _till the day I die Sam, you're MINE... My baby, my brother, the last best gift mom ever gave me, be damned if I ever tell YOU that though_... the boy he raised inflicting harm on himself. Binding himself as he'd been bound by others, _Of his OWN will! Geez Sam! What the hell were you thinking?! Come on little brother... don't lose it on me now okay... just hold it together till we get to Bobby's..._ he thought taking stock of some of the accoutrements he was running across in the lower cabinets and drawers. There were candle holders, incense burners, censures, pots of beeswax, rolls of ribbon, clay, twine and a ton of household items that for the Winchester brothers, found in proximity to one another took on a meaning few would ever know.

The opening riff to AC/DC's Back In Black ripped out of Dean's pocket, fracturing the uneasy quiet that had settled over each man and his thoughts. He glanced at Sam who had several books open and was taking pictures of their pages with his phone, and was trying vainly to hide a smirk.

"Hey..." he answered.

"Hey sweetie...you still at the house?" Laura asked with an edge he sensed far too readily in her voice.

"Yeah... what's up?" his own tone drew a piercing look from Sam who leaned in and listened with his bother.

"The guys from last night? They've just been released... they might be on their way back there. You guys need to get on the road," she warned sternly.

"We're not done," Sam told her.

"Then get done and get out fast cause I'm betting they might be real happy to finish what they started last night..."

After Laura had arrived at the motel in the morning and pried the events of the previous evening out of them she'd nearly begged them to head immediately to Bobby's. She'd even offered to do both the lab and the house though neither man felt comfortable shrugging off what they'd felt was their job quite so easily. After last night it was personal and all three of them knew it, so while they didn't mind sharing and gladly surrendered the lab work to her, eagerly staying as far from local police as possible, they weren't about to just toss the whole mess into her lap and leave her in a possibly dangerous place or position.

There was nothing to indicate they might want anyone other than Sam, given what they'd known about him, but Laura wasn't exactly a normal woman, and if these guys had a way of divining power, they might find her even more appetizing than the young hunter. So, in the end, they'd agreed, they were stronger covering each others' backs, especially when it could've been anyone in those robes.

Dean nodded at Sam who sped up with his picture taking, wanting to get as much as possible for later study.

"We'll be gone in ten minutes," Dean cocked an eyebrow at Sam who nodded curtly, "Meet back at the motel?" he asked.

"No, get on the road... you and Sam just head right out of town, if you stop anywhere, call me okay?" she asked.

"What about you?" Dean asked.

"Soon as the lab work is done I'll be right behind you."

But there was something in her voice, an urgency that pulled at him through the phone, _God honey not you too...didn't we just have a talk about not keeping secrets from each other?..._but he also knew her well enough to know that if she was holding something that close to the vest, she had a good reason. _Yeah like maybe she found out something she doesn't want Sam to know about... at least not yet... or maybe not over the phone...okay... I can wait this out..._ "Okay... if we haven't heard from you by 1 we're turning around... does that give you enough time?" he asked checking his watch.

He could hear her chuckle on the other end, "Yeah, that should be fine... we're only waiting on a few other tests... won't be long... I'll call when I've got 'em and am on the road myself okay?"

"Okay," he nodded and breathed deep, "Just be careful with yourself 'kay?"

"I will... Same for you and Sam... don't take any unnecessary risks...please?"

"Deal... talk to you later,"

"Love you sweetie," she said softly.

Dean smiled looking out the window, he didn't see Sam smile and turn away after catching the look that softened his impenetrable older brother's features and liking it.

"Me too..." he said and hung up. He shook his head and huffed a chuckle before moving into the kitchen and taking pictures of anything that looked remotely unusual anywhere in the room.

--

Laura closed the phone, sat back, pressed her head into the rest behind her and turned up the radio, her eyes skimming the top sheet of several she held. _Oh boy... oh boys, what the hell is this about? Your Demon? The one that's coming? Or is it just a cultist's play for power? Whatever they were trying to summon, it sure as hell wasn't good, _she watched out the passenger window as the four who'd been arrested and subsequently released emerged from the courthouse, two breaking off and heading for a car that was sitting at the curb obviously awaiting them. The other two walked companionably toward the street. Of the two that were headed toward her she could tell one was a man, but the other she wasn't so certain. There was nothing tell-tale in the features and as she chewed her bottom lip she nodded. _Yeah, history's full of lore about them too..._she thought releasing her foot from the brake pedal and driving toward them as she quickly wedged the lab results between the seats.

_Two of 'em huh? Okay... _"Excuse me?" she called rolling down the passenger window, drawing their attention.

They approached the car together, as if they were one person split into two bodies, and leaned forward peering boldly at her.

"I seem to be kinda turned around here... I'm looking for the Keyes Motel... can you help me?" she asked.

They looked at each other, the one of ambiguous gender spoke, "Let us in... we'll take you there..." and she felt a wave of cool wash over her while something tried to hook into her mind like an anchor dragged along a river bottom.

Her finger twitched on the lock button and both side doors opened, admitting her new passengers.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi.


	6. Chapter 6

Darkfalling – Chpt 6.

by: sifi.

--

"Come on Sammy you done yet?" Dean asked checking his watch. Ten minutes had passed five minutes ago.

Sam shoved the last book back into its place on the shelf and quickly scanned the room for any signs they might have left behind. _If we were in a big city what could I bet those books would've been confiscated already?_ "Alright... let's go."

They moved quickly down through the cellar, leaving as they'd come in, leaving everything very much as they'd found it.

Dean was halfway down the lawn already, Sam following more slowly, looking over his shoulder, trying not to drown. Trying not to see that shadow filled maw staring at him, trying not to feel the stings he'd aggravated with his experiment. _Might've been tied differently... _he thought fleetingly pulling the motel pad out of his pocket and looking at what he'd drawn. It wasn't much, but more important than the content, was the perspective it was drawn from. He wondered what, if anything, it might mean.

"Sam!" Dean's voice pulled him the rest of the way across the lawn, toward the car. _I gotta be more careful... Dean's gonna have enough to be freakin' out about without tossing worrying about me on top of it... _

--

_If I was as smart as I like to think I'd just...not yet... huh... maybe not as smart as all that after all..._he smiled to himself stretching his long legs at an angle toward his brother while he half wedged himself between the seat and the door resting his head on the window frame. Sam pulled his jacket tight around him not really minding the pull of his wounds beneath the clothes and closed his eyes.

"Hey... you alright?" Dean asked after watching his little brother hunker down. _He's not the late sleeper, that's me... sorta... talk to me Sam... what's goin' on with you?_

"Mmm hmm," he nodded with a smile, his mind filled with the image on the motel pad, the image of himself strung up, beaten, head and hair hanging in defeat, surrounded by the cultists in their robes. There was incredible detail in the images he'd drawn, more than he'd intended certainly, but again it was the perspective that intrigued him.

Even as he'd been goaded, taunted, whipped in the hopes that he'd call out to some nameless object or creature of worship to these people, he'd watched it all happen. He couldn't be certain if it was because of whatever was in the blood, or if the one who'd bled him had maybe injected him with something, but he had the distinct knowledge, that he'd been in both places at the same time. Within his body, feeling their torment, and within something else, hiding in some extra-dimensional closet, taking refuge inside something that wasn't quite... right... watching what was happening to the young man that was him. Each lick of the whip broadened the smile of this other self, every line of blood that was raised, each drop of sweat that fell or mixed with it was cause for salivation, pulling forth a hunger he hadn't known was there.

The question was, who's hunger was it?

--

"This isn't the motel..." Laura remarked upon turning into the driveway of Alana Stebbins' house.

"You don't mind... come inside with us..." the leader spoke softly.

She parked the car, turned off the ignition and joined them on the driveway. Her eyes scanned up and down the street looking for the impala or any sign of her boys and though her heart was thumping a bit, she was relieved that they were nowhere to be seen.

Her passengers started up the walk to the front door, the leader turned, noticing she was lagging behind and spoke again, "Come inside with us..."

Laura moved hesitantly at first, her eyes skimming over the features of the house now but in just another heartbeat she joined them on the walk and disappeared inside.

"Tell me who you are..." the leader spoke once the door was closed and locked behind them.

"Laura Finnegan."

"What's your gift?"

Her head snapped a shake and her eyes opened wide in surprise, "I...I don't..."

"You don't have to hide from us... tell us... what's your gift?"

"I can..." she shook her head and bit her lip.

She could feel the leader gather his or her concentration, the air in the room grew thick and heavy, charged in a way that seemed to swirl, ebbing and flowing, gathering and receeding. Then it was gone and the leader spoke again, its asexual voice hard, cold and jagged,

"Tell me NOW!" came the order.

Laura felt her eyes begin to water as that sensation of a hook not just being dragged forward from the back of her mind came again, this time, it was sunk deep into her head and the leader was trying to split her brain in two with it. _Is THIS what it feels like when I influence someone? God it's not supposed to hurt anyone!... _

"My gift is perception," she divulged.

Her passenger/captors shared a look not easily read, "Explain?" the leader ordered.

"I can see recent events in a person's life, usually things that have happened within a day or two," she said through clenched teeth.

"Show me."

Laura smiled, _well... isn't THAT ironic... _she thought and raised her hand but the leader stepped aside and pointed to the silent other in the room.

"Not on me... on him."

Laura nodded and approached the man with her hand outstretched. Instead of backing away as she half expected he would, he leaned forward, _shows the power of his boss there... or his faith..._ with the tip of her forefinger she touched his temple and smiled softly, "Show me."

Images unfurled in a ribbon inside her mind as if watching a movie, she saw from within shadows as Sam emerged from the firing range, saw the nod of his "mastress" as he thought of his hermaphrodite leader and watched her daily image approach the young hunter. No sooner had Sam looked to the left, in answer to that strange toneless voice than the ground rushed underfoot and Sam was down, fighting the stunning effect of a heavy handed blow from a blackjack.

As the events of the evening unfolded Laura became privy to whatever knowledge this man held, Jeremy Stebbins' whole life opened before her and she knew more than she wanted to but not yet as much as she needed to do her job well. Her skin tingled and seemed to tighten with the knowledge that came into being in her head, limited though it was. It seemed that Alana didn't necessarily entrust her own son with the whole plan, in fact it seemed that Alana didn't trust her son much at all, and he didn't seem to trust himself quite completely either. _Ahhh a chink in the armor... thank you... _she quelled the smile that wanted to come and choked down the sight, as well as the thick and heady lust he'd felt while helping visit those atrocities on Sam. Careful to keep her expression neutral she watched the memories until Dean rose from the shadows at the side of the stairwell and knocked him out. _What's that?_ she wondered catching that moment of breathtaking awe when Jeremy's un-whole mind grasped the blinding golden glow that was an armor to the elder brother. _'It's HIM!' _he'd thought in that instant before the shotgun came into view and the stock connected with his temple.

Laura gasped dropping her hand from his temple and pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes. _Great... now I'm gonna be stuck with a slice of some head case with a Norman Bates complex in my head... guess I won't be staying with the boys tonight after all... Ahh Dean I miss you... I miss the feel of you around me... son of a bitch!_

" Tell me what you saw..." Alana ordered and again Laura felt that hook, gentler now.

Laura sighed inside, _I'm getting sick of you, you dictatorial he-bitch..._but she played her part and told her everything she'd just witnessed.

--

Dean sat back in the drivers' seat scrolling through the pictures on Sam's phone while the younger Winchester slept, snoring unusually loudly beside him. A wad of Thousand Island dressing from his Big Mac dripped onto the screen and he rolled his eyes wiping it off with his thumb. Looking around he smiled mischievously then reaching out, shook the sleeping giant that was his brother making sure to wipe the wad of orange sauce on his jacket.

"Hey Sammy! Wake up man... come on! Lunchtime!" he called trying to make sure to keep his concern out of his voice. _I know he's gotta be exhausted but this isn't natural... not for MY boy...wake up and talk to me Sam... you can say anything to me you KNOW that... _"I got cha the McNugget Happy Meal! Six whole pieces of pressed, formed and deep fried chicken balls... and a cute little wind-up penguin to go with it..." he even went so far as to wave the box under Sams nose, resulting in a twitch of his mouth and a repositioning of his head as he slid further down in the seat with a groan that sounded part sigh.

"Damnit!" he whispered harshly wondering just how deeply Sam was sleeping. Spocking his eyebrow he closed the phone and reached over. Keeping his eyes on Sam's face he slowly unzipped the jacket until he could lift it open, slide his fingers into the inside pocket and gingerly remove the motel notepad Sam had been sketching on. _Sorry dude, but if you won't talk to me, I gotta find out my own way... _he turned the pad over not knowing what he was going to find, but not expecting a blank page. _Son of a bitch..._he sighed and shook his head, _too smart for your own good Sam... s'probably in your back pocket and I'll be damned if I'm gonna go THERE..._ his eye rolled over his watch, _12:43... seventeen minutes...come on honey... don't make me wait...oooh! Good song...I got a bad feeling about all this..._ he startled when his phone rang and flipped it open.

"Laura?" he asked.

"Ayup... tis I... I'm hitting the road... where are you?" she asked.

"Watching Sammy play in the ball pit at the Forest Glen Oasis's McDonaldland."

"Ah...are you?... You're kidding me right?" she asked after a long pause.

"Yep."

"Jeez Dean y'had me goin' there for a minute..."

"You're just too easy woman..." he smiled feeling some of his load lighten.

"So where IS Sam?" she asked.

"Crashed right next to me...don't worry he's safe...you got something you can tell me? I'm feeling a little in the dark here..." he asked softly, his eyes watching his brother carefully for signs of wakefulness, wondering if he could be eavesdropping.

"Sorry sweetie... no phonability to be had... we gotta talk in person..."

"Hmm, Okay... there's a Travelodge at the junction of 72A and 43..." he held his finger under the information he'd picked up this morning before they left the motel.

"Travelodge hmm... 'kay...see you there then," she sighed.

"Laura?" he fairly whispered.

"Huh?"

"I'm worried..." he admitted almost unable to hear the words himself while he continued to watch his brother.

"You should be Dean... for a lot of reasons," she nodded on her end.

"Well that's comforting... we got into the car and he just crashed... he won't even wake up for lunch..."

"Hmm... as long as that's all there is to it hon it's okay... he's bound to be exhausted, emotionally, physically, psychologically... a little extra sleep right now isn't going to hurt him..." she tried to ease his mind.

"That's NOT all..." he clipped.

"What else?" she asked.

Dean shook his head and pressed his hand to Sam's forehead wondering if he might still have a hint of the fever that had plagued him during the night. To his relief his temperature seemed to be near enough to normal.

"Tonight... we should be there in a few hours...are you two or three hours behind?" he asked.

"Three," she breathed.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Just a headache sweetie...I'm one person you don't have to worry about," there was a smile in her voice that reached out and touched him as if she sat beside him.

His return smile was reflexive yet he didn't want to let her off the phone, "Okay... we'll see you later then?"

"Hey Dean?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm not THAT easy..."

Dean laughed, "Maybe I'm just that good..."

They confirmed estimated time and location and hung up their phones. Dean tried once more to wake his little brother, who moaned, jerked his head away and slid his jacket up over his head while curling deeper into Metallicar's embrace.

--

In his dreams Sam watched from that extra-dimensional closet as another man was strung up the way he'd been. Once more there were four robed figures, the embroidery on the leader's was the same. His nose filled with the scent of cooking blood and mixed herbs. He watched, testing every so often, some unseen barrier that kept him from entering the room, the scent drew him, made him hungry, made him want to hurt, to feel and to cause, to taste the blood... to taste the heady narcotic of unwilling sacrifice.

_Want! NOW! Do it NOW! _he thought feeling his own water squirt into his mouth as the instrument was called upon to call out. _I almost had it last night! This one... this one has something special though... something different... hit him again! _he grinned watching that stoic face grimace with fiery strokes of heavy leather.

"If only they'd all work it together... I might be able to break free..."

The offering was fed, and bled and fed again. Then he was beaten,

"Hit him again!" he hissed through clenched teeth, his heart beating hard and breath coming short in his chest as the whip fell again, "Again!" he urged feeling himself break out in a sweat as the lashes fell one on top of the other until the offering screamed music to Sam's ears. _Yes! Again! Scream again! _he breathed it in.

Human flesh opened, ribbons unwound from the body, blood painted his vision as tears and screams of confusion, pleas for mercy cooled the fever in his mind.

_Again!_ he willed, feeling his body coiled tightly in anticipation of the next nourishing rush of agony.

"Harder!" he urged, gnashing his teeth, watching muscle tear away from the yellow of bone beneath with each successive lash, _This one won't last... this one doesn't have the power... I need that boy back! He can open the way... Oh God of mine... Harder! Hit him again... and again and again until there's nothing left... yeeeesss... Oh yes..._

"Harder!" Sam barked, his lips rolled high up on his teeth as he bucked awake.

--

tbc.

Please R&R...

same old song and dance...

Thanks.

sifi.


	7. Chapter 7

Darkfalling – chpt 7

by: sifi

--

"Harder!" Sam barked bolting awake, his lip rolled back over his teeth in a snarl his brother had never seen before, and honestly didn't want to know he could make.

Dean looked over, his foot coming off the accelerator as Sam looked around, taking in his surroundings, his brows furrowed, mouth bowing down in a frown. He was breathing hard and had broken a sweat and Dean wondered if he was having a vision. He began to pull over to the tree lined shoulder.

"Sam?" he asked pulling to a stop.

Sam's eyes fixed on Dean's, locking onto those greens that were so familiar and at that moment, so foreign. "More..." he breathed, his fingers fumbling with the door handle, pushing at the door, trying to unlock it, pull the handle, undo his seatbelt and push the door open at the same time.

"Sam!" Dean reached for him a second too late. Sam was out the door stumbling on the rocky roadside, his hands against his temples pressing into them and muttering almost incoherently, his body rambling with his thoughts. "Too soon... there wasn't enough, he didn't have enough, it felt like he would but the boy, the boy, gotta get the boy back... he has... he can... hafta get the boy back... God of mine... so hungry... feed, scream... scream... hungry, so hungry... so much... need..."

"Damnit!" Dean cursed putting the car in park and pocketing the keys before joining his brother on the roadside. "Sam? Sam! Come on talk to me Sammy!" he urged grasping him by the jacket and giving him a little shake.

"Sam!" he barked drawing those blue greens he knew so well up to his own eyes.

_Come on Sam! Look at me! See me!... dude you are seriously freakin' me out here! Come ON! he doesn't have a clue who I am... I can feel it..._

"Hungry... oh God... so damned hungry!" he looked deep into Dean's eyes, his hands grasping the leather of his jacket tightly while his own need begged to be sated.

_Oooh this is wrong..._ Dean felt queasy and for an instant he could see his brother eyeing him like a cartoon character marooned on an island with his best friend starts to see him. _This is whole worlds of not right here Sammy... you're lookin at me like a seven course turkey dinner dude... _"Got food in the car..." he choked on his suddenly too dry throat.

Sam's eyes lit up and he fairly dove toward the passenger door.

Dean watched him kneeling on the side of the road, his hands tearing through the cardboard and paper, stuffing fries and nuggets and even scraps of paper into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in weeks. _He's like an animal..._ and suddenly the food was gone, but reaffirming his thought Sam began rooting around through the car, chewing on the bag, the box, anything that had the scent of food on it.

"Alright that's enough Sam..." Dean pulled him to his feet, ripping the trash out of his hands and mouth and tossing it into the woods. He watched the young hunter's eyes follow the offal and felt his body lurch toward it, but it wasn't gonna happen.

"Sam! Snap out of it!..." he commanded shaking him harshly before grasping him by the chin and forcing his eyes to make a connection again.

"Sooo hungry..." he whimpered looking into that face he was starting to remember. Reading the fear he used to know.

"We'll get you something else Sammy... anything you want okay? Just... come on... come back okay?" he pleaded, redirecting his gaze yet again.

"Dean..." Sam seemed to sigh as he stopped trying to push his way through him and into the woods where his eyes still lingered.

"Yeah Sam... come on..." he turned him back as Sam's stomach erupted in a lion's pride of roars making Dean marvel before he remembered there really was nothing nourishing his brother since the day before.

"Hungry...need...screams... Dean!... I'm hungry..." he mumbled as Dean led him back, got him situated and strapped in. He made sure the door was locked and with a shaky deep breath slid behind the wheel once more. By the time the impala was at cruising speed Sam was back to sleep, his hands tucked under his head, his jacket pulled back up over his head a bit.

_Too much like a vampire..._he could hear John's voice in his head when they'd raided Luther's nest, _"They do sleep during the day... they can move around but they're sluggish and they CAN handle sunlight...it just hurts their eyes..." But he doesn't have any fangs! but that... that... mewling... hungry... so much like an animal... _an image of a wild orange haired, drum playing muppet came to mind and he smiled to himself briefly, _No... not YOU animal... feral...man frelled if I don't feel like I'M going to throw up... Just let us get there... we can figure this out...I hope... 'need screams?...' nope... don't like this at all... _

--

_It's him! Oh God of Mine it's HIM! one of your betrayer's champions! Sitting in this monstrosity right beside me! Oh now HE could set me free... HE has enough... _"nn...er!" Sam called, tossing his head, still in the throes of a sleep Dean's whole essence told him was brutally unnatural.

"Sam?" he questioned reaching over, sweeping the jacket off his brother's head to check his temperature.

Sam's hands clamped onto Dean's arm, holding the limb within inches of his face, his eyes wide, sweat pouring down into his collar as one hand pushed and one hand pulled.

"Sam! Dude! Get off me!" Dean barked keeping one eye on the road and one on his little brother's face, wondering if he was going to sprout a set of fangs after all.

Sam shook his head as if coming out of a trance, blinked hard while releasing Dean's arm and looked at the curiously intense expression on his older brother's face.

"Mmm... what're you doin'?" he muttered grabbing for the sweating plastic cup in the holder on the floor between them.

"What'm I doin?!... what the hell are YOU doin?!... you tryin' t'bite me or something?" he asked half seriously.

Sam drank hard from the cup looking at Dean as if he'd sprouted a second head, "What're you talking about? I wake up to find the back of your hand coming at my face and I'm supposed to just..."

"I was checking to see if you still had a fever...you had one last night... I thought it might've come back is all... what's the last thing you remember?" he asked on a hunch.

Sam frowned and scratched his head, "...I think I was eating a box..." he muttered.

Dean sputtered an unexpected laugh spocking his eyebrow at Sam and couldn't stop himself, "Well it's about time Sammy... you've been high and dry since the last time we got Latin Spice for free..."

"Oh man... I don't need this crap..." Sam grinned squeezing the cup in his hands till a jet of ice water careened into Dean's ear, splashing up the side of his head and down into his collar.

"Hey hey! Upholstery!" he reprimanded grinning and making a show of wiping his face thoroughly while his left hand grasped his own bottle and shot Sam with a return jet that brought out one of his little brother's warmest smiles, the kind that kicked painful moments to the curb and let them enjoy each others' company while the rest of the world tried to tear itself apart.

--

Laura sat back in the drivers' seat and grimaced, she was surrounded by cars, stuck in traffic during rush hour and apparently in the middle of a two mile long gapers block because of a multiple vehicle accident up ahead. She'd been bypassed by two ambulances and a fire truck already. Part of her wanted to drive the shoulder up to the scene and see if she could offer assistance, but now that the EMT's were there, she felt better about not having done so, _I've got my own job to do... ._

"The mastress won't be very happy with you..." the slice of Jeremy Stebbins had manifested in record time within her head. She figured it was in part, due to his abilities. He was one of the chosen ones in a way, though as far as she could tell he had no idea of his own about Big Bad, his plans, or any other special children, except for someone named Alexandra Bentley, but she was dead now. He'd been crushed when he found out she was dead, victim of a drive by shooting. She took a bullet in the back to save someone's life. He'd felt a certain pride about how she died, glad she found a way to leave with some kind of meaning.

"Yeah well the mastress can go straight to hell... you got no clue what the hell you're into, what you're doing...or who you're messing with..." she explained to the apparition that sat in the passenger seat.

"You have nowhere to go... if they're really your friends you'll stay away from them... if you don't, you'll hurt them," he said softly.

"Not gonna happen Jeremy... don't you worry about it..."

"She pushed you... you can't resist her..." the slice of his consciousness said then cocked its non-existent head to the side while looking at her piercingly, "Then again... maybe you can... you're not like other people... you're not gold but they don't feed on you... it's like you're gold but you're not..." he smiled, "He was so bright! So beautiful... he'd last long enough to bring him forth... either one of them could do the job... they're both... exceptional..."

"What, or who is it Alana is trying to call Jeremy? Who were you trying to summon last night?" she asked fully believing the information WAS in there somewhere and she'd just missed it. She hadn't had the opportunity to try and get it from Alana without showing her hand. She wanted to turn back, go dip into that he-bitch and rip the information from her mind, but she had the boys to think about, she couldn't protect them and act as she wanted just yet.

"Mastress doesn't understand, when the door opens..." the apparition beside her actually shuddered and frowned despite the sense of tingling anticipation she felt rolling off of him, "I KNOW... I see them... but... I won't tell her... I won't... it's not my place..."

"Tell her what?" Laura asked feeling anger quickly coming to a rolling boil deep in her belly.

"No... nope, no can't tell... won't tell..." his consciousness trembled, seeming to slide back in time, back to when he was in the asylum he'd broken out of. He'd made his way back to Alana after discovering Alex was dead and Alana had offered him protection against the demons that were feeding on him so readily now. His stay in the asylum had apparently left him vulnerable to them, and now he was succumbing while what little was left of his sanity crumbled.

"Tell me God DAMNIT!" she exploded furiously, slamming the heel of her hand against the dash, making the visage beside her jump startled.

"You lied to the mastress... she won't be happy about that..." the slice of him muttered.

"You're goddamned right I did!" she snarled jerking the wheel all the way to the left as the car in front of her crawled another couple feet. Her foot slammed down on the accelerator and she dove into the deep 'V' of the grassy median that separated ribbons of highway. She maneuvered the car up onto the shoulder, heading back in the direction she'd come from, her foot holding the pedal down as she paced traffic and awaited her opportunity to merge. Once she was back on the road she pulled her cell phone and dialed.

"Hey..." the smile in Dean's voice touched her gently, softening her features and soothing her temper.

"Hey back... I'm going to have to detour... there's a huge backup on the expressway... how are you guys doing? Sam still sleeping?" she asked.

"We're alright... sleeping beauty finally woke up... you're still gonna meet us there right?" he asked.

"I don't know... might not be a good idea...but I'll be nearby if you need me..." she muttered finally.

"What? Why?"

"I'm not sure I can be trusted right now..."

"What did you do?" he asked with a groan, "You went to the house! You made sure we got out of there and you went there yourself! what did you DO Laura!"

"She didn't..." Sam questioned in the background.

"She did..." Dean confirmed angrily.

"Come on Dean!...gimme a break would you?! Look I found out some interesting stuff..."

"You dipped into one of 'em didn't you? Which one? The leader? What'd you do? pretend you were raising money for the local VFW hall and decide to go swimming in some psycho's mind!?" he nearly yelled.

Laura bit her lip, _Yeah let's not piss him off anymore right now..._ "Something like that... look we needed information... and I walked right out of there sweetie... nothing bad happened, nothing okay? I KNOW what I'm doing... it's just that one of 'em did some time in a mental institution... Alana's son Jeremy Stebbins... and I don't want to take any chances okay?"

"Write it down Sam, Jeremy Stebbins..." Dean sighed on his end of the line, "What else?"

"He's psychic... he can see auras and manifestations... he calls 'em demons... I don't think he knows what REAL demons are... but he sees them kinda sucking the life energy out of a person..."

Dean felt a trickle of shiver run the length of his spine as he fell quiet, remembering things he really wished he'd never discovered.

"I'm trying to dig into that slice of him right now... see if he knows what or who they were trying to summon... He's terrified of his mother though..." she explained and listened intently to the quiet on the other end of the line.

"Dean?"

"Yeah... yeah I'm here... look, just meet us Laura, you'll be fine... trust me," he assured her.

"It's that important huh?" she questioned.

"Might be... but I still don't know how it all ties in..."

"Tell her..." Sam urged in the background.

"Something's going on with Sam too since last night... kind of an OBE thing..."

"Two places at once..." Sam corrected.

"You hear him?" he asked.

"Yeah, I heard him... alright... we'll take the chance... soon as I find an alternate route I'll be there, till then... you guys be safe okay? Whatever this is about Jeremy can sense or see the both of you, your auras... if they figure out you've skipped town...I don't know how far Jeremy can see you guys, I don't know what kind of range he has but I get the feeling if she finds out you and Sam are gone... she'd hit the road to get you _both_..." she warned.

"What?!? Why?" Dean asked confused.

"I'm pulling the information as fast as I can Dean." she nodded.

"That's HIM?!" the slice of Jeremy demanded beside her, "You KNOW them? You KNOW _HIM_?! I should've known... I should've recognized it! I should have _SMELLED_ it on you! You BITCH!" he spat and threw a startling punch that passed through her harmlessly, leaving a wake of cold behind.

The attempt to hit her came as such a surprise she jerked the wheel in time with her head, and rode the lane line for a moment, grateful there was no car on her left.

"Damnit!... Don't DO that!" she growled to her non-existent passenger and was faced with a smirk.

"Do what? Laura what's goin' on?" Dean's voice asked, concerned on the other end.

"Nothing...just some ass hole..." she muttered.

"So now it's not just the Yellow Eyed Demon we have to worry about it's a nationwide cult of whip wielding freaks too? Or is Big Bad in on this? Pulling strings from behind the scenes?" he asked.

She looked at her petulant passenger who met her eyes and shrugged cockily while twirling his finger at the side of his head, the universal gesture for 'crazy', "I don't know... but I don't think Big Bad has anything to do with this... it feels different..." she grunted feeling as if her head was splitting in two.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Laura nodded, "Yeah... look, both Alana and Jeremy have abilities...I really should have tried to dip into Alana herself... but she can push like those brothers Andy and Webber you told me about...and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to just walk away y'know?"

"And just exactly _how_ would you know that?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Jeremy knows it so now I do too..." she lied quickly and bit her lip bloody through the sound of his sigh of relief. _I'm sorry sweetie... I love you, I'll tell you the truth when we're face to face I promise... _

"Listen you made the right choice... Andy couldn't push Sam, but then again he wasn't a slice of consciousness in his head... just meet us tonight and we'll figure it out okay?" he urged.

Laura smiled tasting blood on her tongue, "Okay...yeah, there's a lot to go over... and what they did to Sam... what was in that blood Dean... watch him okay? There was...purpose... intent..." she gasped feeling as if the answers were just beyond her fingertips, just rolling out of reach no matter how far she stretched trying to grasp them. "Damnit..." she whimpered, "...lemme work on it... I'll see you tonight," she huffed and hung up as the apparition of Jeremy sat beside her laughing.

--

tbc.

A little slow... sorry...

please R&R though...

Thanks.

sifi .

Extreme thanks go to Beloved Beist and Nevermore for their tireless efforts and enthusiasm in the act of Beta-ing this Sam Centric fic for me... Thank You Ladies!

All mistakes are mine.


	8. Chapter 8

Darkfalling – chpt 8

by: sifi

--

"...too damned bad!" Sam stormed pacing the room and running his fingers through his hair, grasping it by the handful and pulling. He couldn't shake the horrible sense of crowding inside his skin. There was too much of him inside his body, he was certain he was going crazy, and this argument with his big brother wasn't helping matters. He wanted to shut his mouth, wanted to clam up and stop talking, stop divulging things, he had secrets to keep, plans to put into action if he was to do his job, but that golden armored champion wouldn't let go of the boy.

"Look... I'll get enough booze to knock you out for a week if I have to... or run salt rings around you in triplicate... hell I'll even tattoo a Seal of Solomon on your forehead and a Devil's trap on your ass if you want but I will NOT walk away from you! You still don't get it do you Sam?" Dean argued frustrated.

"What's to get?" Sam pressed his palm to his forehead and breathed hard, _Stop talking! _ he gasped, "At the very least something is trying to use me as a conduit," _it's bad enough I'm actually enjoying the sting of every pull against the lashes from last night, but what I want Dean... oh God what I want and I can't tell you... I can't do that to you..._ "What if I can't fight it?" _I can't fight it..._ "What if I'm not strong enough to stop whatever it is from hurting or even killing you if you get in the way Dean?" _I'm only human..._

"You're strong enough Sam," Dean assured him.

"You don't KNOW that! _I_ don't know that!"

The elder hunter nodded, his eyes holding his little brother's, "You're wrong...I _DO_ know it."

Sweat began to pour down Sam's face and neck as he shrugged out of his jackets, collapsed on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands.

"...the hell?" Dean frowned spying a heavy trail of brown leading down Sam's forearm to his elbow. He grasped his little brother's hand and examined it, his expression a mélange of concern, questioning and disgust as he found the source of the heavy stripe. At the heel of Sam's hand was a quarter sized patch where the skin had been gnawed through and left raw.

"Sam..." he breathed the last of the air in his body. He felt sucker-punched by a titan of myth and offered no resistance as Sam jerked his hand out of Dean's grip and looked him in the eye.

"It wasn't me..." _Oh God it hurt so good though... warm and thick... and the dull aching once the flesh broke open... sooo perfect... _he headed toward the bathroom then wheeled around with glassy eyes and a tight lipped expression that narrated the depth of his fear, "It was hungry, and I couldn't stop it...it feeds on pain..." he hitched a breath, visibly shaking under his big brother's stunned silent countenance, "...and I..." he stopped, his teeth grinding down on his lower lip as Dean's expression became a questioning one, "...and I didn't mind..." he muttered before retreating hastily to the bathroom.

He closed and locked the door and sat on the toilet, his head in his hands feeling tears dotting his palms while he tried to settle himself and fight the feeling of wanting to burst out of his own skin.

"Sam!" Dean recovered quickly and pounded on the door, "Come on Sam... it's okay man... we'll figure this out okay... come out of there..." he sighed pressing his forehead against the flimsy wood, "...don't get stupid Sammy..."

"I'm alright Dean... I just want to make sure we both _stay_ alright... whatever it is... it wants to hear you scream..." he said through the door.

A shank of ice slid into the back of Dean's neck as he slid down the wall, his little brother's words reverberating in his head and his mouth ran dry, "Any idea why? I mean what'd I ever do to it?" he asked leaning against the jamb and listening through the plywood.

"It's hungry..." Sam's voice was barely audible. He sat back, his feet wedged against the bathtub as he rested his head back against the wall. His mind was full of the sight of a woman this time, strung up as he'd been, as the other man he'd watched being brutalized had been. The ritual played itself out again, Sam's heart racing in his chest as she screamed and cried tears of sugared saltiness he could almost taste dancing on his tongue. A smile spread across his lips as he watched her flesh open just as his had done before, as her blood flowed as his had done, as she gasped as he had done. Heat spread through him and in his mind he could feel the barrier weaken but only for a moment before the woman lost consciousness. _Idiots! She's no good to me if she's not awake to FEEL it! _

"Wait... just a little longer...she'll be awake..." _then we can start again... maybe if we just..._ "...pull the skin off her body it'll be enough!" he ground while biting hard on his lower lip, _No! Please... no... _he thought desperately, knowing even his desperation was now serving to nourish this... depravity.

"Sam?" Dean asked apprehensively, his face curled in distaste. He wasn't sure he'd heard what he thought he had.

"Dean...the embroidery on the robes... put the damned pieces together genius..." Sam groaned sounding almost as if he were drunk.

"Help me out here Professor Peabody... my genius genes are a little tapped out right now..." he called anxiously, hoping Sam was keeping it together. _I need to get him out of there... I have to watch him... make sure he doesn't hurt himself... if it feeds on pain... it might be trying to get him to hurt himself..._ "Come on Sam... come out of there, we need to find out as much about these freaks as we can and I can't focus with you in there doing god only knows what... course if you're acquainting yourself with your right hand I don't really want to know about that..." he couldnt' help but mutter, needing to break the tension that was building with horrifying speed inside of himself.

"Get online and see who's got a grudge against Enki or Cernunnos... whoever... whatever it is... it's beef is with YOUR patron..." Sam groaned through the door.

"Sam? What're you doing? What's goin' on? Talk to me Sam...don't make me break down the damned door! We can't afford it and you know it!"

"If I come out will you tie me up?" he asked, his voice barely audible now.

_Boy that sounds so wrong..._ "Oooh kay...as long as you promise not to enjoy it too much..." Dean nodded, _Anything to get you into my sight little brother..._

"Ass hole..." he heard Sam smiling on the other side of the door and felt some of his fear lift.

--

Sam stood over the sink, cool water running through his hands, stinging the meat of his palm where he'd gnawed through the flesh, but he barely paid it any attention. He splashed his face and sighed. A glance around revealed two threadbare towels that were soaked before he was done drying his face. Shaking his head, he wiped his hands on his jeans and felt a hard outline in his back pocket.

_Ohh yeah... _he thought sliding the lock back out of his pocket and opening it, _Do it... _he thought, _Come on... do it... it'll only sting for a second... _ "No..." he shook his head, looking into his reflection, the fear on his face, shining out of his eyes made his heart pound, _cold stinging right in the crease of skin... just press the blade..._ he watched his right hand lay the blade against the palm of his left, directly atop the heart-line. His right hand shook, trying to lift the stainless steel, _No...DOWN... come on! Push it down! just a little more force... it's sharp, the cut isn't what'll hurt...I'll make sure of that... press and swipe, just press and swipe come on Sam!_

A single knock on the door and Dean's voice called out, "I got the rope Sam... come on out of there..."

"No!" he ground between clenched teeth, fighting with all his might to remove the blade from his skin. Sweat coated him, dripping out of his hair, his muscles strained and his veins bulged as if he'd just tried to lift the impala.

"Come on Sam! I said I'd tie you up and I will..." Dean called and shook his head, "... sounds so wrong..."

"Dean!..."

It was all he needed. Dean raised his foot and kicked the knob. The door flew inward with the elder Winchester following. In the blink of an eye his hands were wrapped around Sam's wrists and he was fighting for control.

"Help me..." Sam whispered, his face terrified as Dean tried to get the lock back out of his little brother's hand.

"I'm tryin' Sam... fight it willya! Gimme some help here!"

"... please..." Sam gasped weakly sniffing against helpless frustration while pushing his brother, forcing him out into the main room, as that voice spoke inside him again, _That kind of pain will work too... _and the blade shifted in his hand, angling downward while his muscles altered course trying to bring the gleaming steel down into his brother, "No!" he cried in horror renewing his efforts against whatever it was that was trying to use him.

"SamMY!" Dean ground, his expression changing from fear for his little brother to fear for himself as he pushed now against the taller hunter's descending hands.

"Dean... I c..c..an't..." he shook his head, exhaustion and fear written plainly all over him as his body put forth another effort with the voice inside him gaining power, _DO IT! Cut... Slash... make it flow! Taste his blood! Drink it in and FEED ME!_

"I don't wanna hear that Sam!" Dean gasped.

Something inside his little brother shifted, his expression spoke of an instant of distraction and Dean took the opportunity. Keeping his forearm high against Sam's descending knife hand he pulled back and rocketed a fearsome blow to his jaw. Sam stumbled, the knife held firmly in his hand even as Dean came forward in full assault mode. He kicked disarming Sam quickly before stepping in and putting him down with a fierce couple of blows.

He watched breathlessly as the young man he'd raised and tried to keep safe in this world crumpled to the floor unconscious. Dean's eyes flicked to the left making sure the knife was out of arms reach before rolling him over, hiking him over his shoulder and plopping him into one of the chairs where he could tie him up tightly.

--

"...I don't know what to do..." Dean scrubbed his face with his hands looking helplessly on as he fought against the fear of losing what had always been, and was supposed to always be his, forever.

"Dean I'm not sure there's a whole lot of choice here, we don't know what Sam knows, what he WANTS to tell you, what he HAS told you and what he might not be able to tell you..." she tried once more to convince him as she finished her beer and wolfed down another slice of pizza.

"He said whatever it is it's got a grudge against Enki or Cernunnos... which means we could both be in trouble," he eyed her curiously, "Any ideas?"

She shook her head tiredly, "I got nuthin'..."

"Okay... let's get what we've got on the table and see what we need from there okay?" he suggested while popping open a beer and taking a swig before running an Italian Beef sandwich under Sam's nose, "Come on sleeping beauty... time to wake up now... don't make me kiss you..."

"Use the pepper," Laura suggested with a smile.

"You're gonna be in trouble tonight," he smirked biting into the pepperocini, chewing it just enough to get the heat of it into his mouth and blowing it into Sam's face while waving the other half under his nose.

Sam's head snapped back, his eyes started to flutter and he gasped a couple of mild coughs, "Mmm mint... sick..." he started coming around, trying to move and finding he couldn't, "What?... oh... oh yeah... Dean! Are you okay? I didn't hurt you?" he asked taking in the evidence of Laura's recent arrival. Just a couple pieces missing from the pizza, three beers open on the table and an apparently wide variety of food still left to be unwrapped.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"It's only been about ten minutes..." Dean assured him.

"I hear you've been hungry," Laura smiled sliding to his side with a piece of pizza in her hand as he nodded.

"Hey Laura... yeah..."

"Here you go sweetie..." she held the slice for him in one hand while her left ran comfortingly through his hair. "Once we're done eating we need to put our notes together and see if we can get the whole picture here..."

Sam nodded maneuvering the rest of the slice into his mouth as his stomach erupted once again in a chorus of angry snarls.

"I can feed myself..." he said around the mouthful.

"Yeah... we know..." Dean nodded ripping into his own slice and chasing it down with a handful of beef, "...but... no..."

"You played us!" the slice of Jeremy laughed once more while leaning over the food and breathing in the scent of sausage, mushroom and onion pizza, "I still can't believe you knew these guys the whole time!... man that's freakin... oh hell the mastress is gonna KILL you! You are sooo dead!" he laughed then leaned in and breathed into her ear, "It can see you y'know... it can sense your connection to the betrayer..."

"Quit with the bullshit already! Either say what you're going to say or shut the hell up!" she stormed to the empty air on her right and drew a look from the boys.

"Jeremy?"

"Jeremy?" they asked together.

She nodded, "He knows more than I thought initially... but he's not giving it up easily... part of me wants to go back and talk to him personally..."

"No!"

"No," they did it again.

"Dude!" Dean shot his little brother 'the look'.

Sam shrugged in response and smiled, "It's not necessary... it would mean going all the way back, putting yourself in harm's way with little hope of gaining any new information... tactically it's not advantageous," he explained.

"He's right," Dean acknowledged.

"I know... it would be a waste of time and resources...which brings us back to dipping into Sam..."

"Huh?" Sam's brows furrowed and he frowned looking from Laura to Dean, "Uh dipping into me?" _Aaaahhh yeeeess... oh YES! The bitch! What a coup! Ooh the pain she could take... exquisite distress... the agony would explode us both onto the world... three worlds of pain for the tasting... _ he shook his head frowning, "that might not be..." _bad idea! No! Very Bad Laura! Don't do it! _"... a bad idea... You might be able to get some idea of how to stop it right?" _Oh God No! Don't! Don't... that's exactly what it wants! _"But you gotta know... this thing is... depraved... and it recognizes you..." _Shut up now boy! Yeeees just enough to entice... _"It wants you to do it..." he shook his head frowning.

"Uh uh... no way... I don't like it... the last thing you need is another slice of sadist in your head..." Dean argued then asked, "What are the odds something they put in that blood is making him hallucinate this whole... _thing_...?" he asked.

"It's not a hallucination... it's _him! _He's starting to break through the barrier... a little more blood, a little more pain... a few more screams and he'll be here and when he comes You'll Be Soooo rry!" Jeremy sing-songed.

"The hypnotic breaks down the capacity for mental resistance, the hallucinogen helps open the psychic channels..." Laura breathed hard, her eyes closing as she tried to focus and she began to sweat.

"No MORE!... you can't have any more!" the slice of Jeremy shouted furiously at her leaving her gasping breathless and white knuckle clutching the table.

"Stop okay... just... stop..." Dean winced watching her fingernails bend back against the cheap formica tabletop. Neither of them noticing the gleam in Sam's eye, or the tiny smile he swallowed a moment later.

She shook her head grimacing, "No! There's more Dean!... there's... the ritual, I saw it through his eyes, it's being done in like... half a dozen places all over the states..." she looked from the image of Jeremy, to Sam and finally to Dean, her stomach feeling queasy, "Why NOW?" she asked palming her eyes, trying to push through whatever information Jeremy was so vehemently guarding.

Darkness filled her vision, blinding her to everything but pinpoints of light and the bodies of constellations moving through the heavens, "Okay I suck at astronomy and astrology..." she muttered watching the heavens turn around her. A pinpoint of light stretched, elongated until it was a thread and the darkness split before her unleashing a flood ethereal beings, some benevolent, some malevolent, some wholly neutral, and all craving freedom.

"I said NO MORE!" the slice of Jeremy screamed enraged and for the first time in all of her known lives, a slice of consciousness struck out. His incorporeal hand sunk deep into her head.

_Someone's screaming... what happened? Oh... that's me..._ she thought before silence stilled the night.

--

tbc

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi


	9. Chapter 9

Darkfalling – chpt 9.

by sifi:

--

"Dean she needs help!" Sam pulled and jerked against the ropes that held him and felt them start to loosen. _What the hell?! _he watched transfixed as the ends slithered backwards through their knots, not much, nothing obvious, as if someone wanted him free, as much as he wanted to be freed. _Oh man... this can't be good...Dean! Dean this isn't good! _but he couldn't make his voice come out. His eyes followed Dean as he leaped to his feet, hopped the bed and slid to the floor where Laura had come to rest after being thrown by an unseen hand, screaming a piercing sound neither man knew she could make as trails of blood started to flow from her nose.

"You don't move!" he ordered his little brother while crouching next to where she lay still. His fingers fell to her throat and he choked on relief casting his eyes fleetingly upward, "Thank you..." he whispered.

"What is it? Is she alright? Is she breathing?... Dean!" Sam called angrily, twisting and pulling in the chair, finding the ropes loosening with every motion.

"Yeah... she's alive..." Dean nodded picking her up and putting her on the bed.

His left hand slid free and he quickly untied himself joining his brother beside their fallen friend. "What the hell happened?"

Dean looked at him incredulous, his question easily read.

"... they just started to feel looser..." he shook his head and shrugged, "I'm okay... is she?" he asked.

"She's alive..." he looked at the ropes dangling from the limbs of the chair and frowned, "Well since you're free... get me a damp cloth will ya?"

"Sure..." Sam nodded frowning with concern as he headed to the bathroom, _If it hadn't been for me this wouldn't have happened... self pity later... just make sure she's okay, I don't need another name on my list of casualties... especially not her... not when she's all he'll have left... I need to end this... once and for all..._ the concepts swirled amorphously through him, once more, nothing concrete really, nothing making itself sharply visible though growing in insistence, but not without help.

Sam folded both towels together and turned on the water, _It's my fault... I mean we've known for the last year and a half I'm a freakin' magnet for dark forces but this... this has got to stop... I can save them both... Dean will never have to know another moment of fear, he'll be mad as hell, and hurt for a long time... but she'll help him through that too... then they can move on and live happily ever after..._ he looked up, meeting his own eyes in the mirror, wondering if this was the kind of feeling Dean had experienced when he attacked his reflection in that motel in Washington.

"I need to do SOMEthing..." he whispered leaning in, his hands on the mirror, his forehead pressed to its cool smoothness, "It's my responsibility..."

_Ahhh...just enough!_ he heard and felt his back hit the wall as the world jerked in a spastic pirouette, turning itself backwards.

"What the hell?" he called lurching forward, and finding himself pushed with equal force backwards by an unseen barrier. He raised his fists looking out of darkness, into the light at his own face, his own eyes glittering with light that wasn't him.

"No!...Dean! DEAN!!" he called soundlessly. He watched his mouth smirk while his fists ricocheted impotently against the barrier. _Oh God... what have I done?_

--

"It's done... he's free... they'll be here soon," Jeremy nodded, smiling hugely at his mother who's hand stroked his hair tenderly.

"He'll bring all of them yes?" Alana asked, her eyes far away, looking forward in time or into the night, either could have been true.

Jeremy nodded, "Yeah... the battle maiden's bitch will last the longest... she's been endowed... and watching her fade will tear the champion apart which will in turn tear the boy apart..."

"He'll keep the window open then?" she asked.

"Yes... with all three of them at once in the heart, and the other five sacrifices at the points there is no doubt... the door will open tonight. Enough for them all to come, you know many of them will not take any side at all... and the others will be split..." Jeremy warned.

Alana nodded, "I know... but we're stronger than they are... and they ALL want their freedom..."

"...and they've waited so long for it..."

"We plant the seeds of vengeance and we'll have more than we think on our side... are you excited son?" she asked.

"Yes... we'll be revered almost as much as the Winchester boy..." he groaned and felt a stab in the region of his third eye, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes squinted shut.

"What is it?" she asked knowing her son enough to know simple monitoring would never cause him pain.

He shook his head, "It's Sam... he's already fighting to get back out..." he hissed through clenched teeth, his concentration split three ways. Yes Sam Winchester was already trying to break through the barrier, and break the laws of physics at the same time. And though Jeremy knew the imposter who'd finally managed to squirm through the tiniest of cracks and take the young hunters' place was having a lot of fun beating the elder brother and his patron's bitch, there was something that was sending a shiver through him. Something growing in the periphery of his mind that he couldn't quite get a grip on, and it scared him. _What is that? I have to find out what it is before I bother the Mastress with it though..._ he thought while keeping his mind on the Igigi who was even now headed back with two unconscious passengers, one in the trunk and the other on the floor in the back seat of that black monstrosity as it thought of the Impala.

Alana's bony fingers squeezed the muscles of his neck not unkindly as she leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "Keep watching them... if anything changes I'll be preparing the altars with the others."

"Yes Mastress..." Jeremy nodded barely feeling her fingers twine into his hair, or the stinging tug against his scalp as his head was drawn back, his mouth captured in a sadistic lovers' kiss that tore his lip open.

"My son..." she smiled licking the blood from his mouth.

"Yes Mastress..." he nodded tasting her saliva mixed with his blood. He returned his attention to his monitoring as his mother left the house.

--

_Ow... whafa?...ouch...hmmm head... pain...sleep...'kay... "Wake Up NOW!" _and her eyes fluttered open to a world of muddy fog and growling glass packs under her ear, _...in the car... moving... where?...where're we goin'?_ a dry choked grunt vibrated up from her throat, the sound hidden by the roar of the Impala's engine. Slowly she turned her head and tried to lick her lips but there was something in her mouth. Skin crawled and tightened and a shiver tried to shake her but she wasn't quite there just yet. _"Wake UP! You're in trouble!"_ she heard within her head and tried once more to summon awareness. _If I'm in trouble... Dean...no Dean's driving... Sammy then? Sam's in trouble... come on Laura! _

Slowly her body began to respond and move. Through the mud of her vision she could make out the obvious outline of Sam behind the wheel. Her gaze flicked to the passenger seat, fully expecting to see Dean. Her brows furrowed, and as if sensing her returning awareness Sam looked over his shoulder, his eyes meeting hers, shining darkly as his mouth twitched faintly upward, _A trick of the light?_ she thought feeling her heart starting to pick up the pace, her head screamed inside and like a new rubber band; circumstance, situation and something sinister in the man behind the wheel snapped her all the way home. Laura tested her situation and lay back breathless, _This... is bad._

--

Little by little pain became a remembered quantity and events started trying to find their rightful places in the puzzle of his mind and memory, he saw as if in slow motion Laura lifted out of her chair, grabbed at the face by, he had no idea what, then thrown with the ease of a rag doll across the room and into the wall, rivers of blood running out of her nose. _What the hell could've done that? Couldn't have been Jeremy... even the demon slice she had that one time couldn't...oh man... my freakin' head... Sammy I'm gonna smack you so hard for this..._ then he remembered looking up as Sam strode from the bathroom, his long legs eating the distance in three strides before he stepped effortlessly onto the bed, kicked Dean in the face and attacked. _That's right... little bastard kicked me in the face! Dude! Not cool! Course can't be Sam...possessed? Hmmm no, doesn't feel right... that thing that was trying to use him as a conduit... we never did figure it out did we? Damn! Come on Sammy! Fight it! Don't let it use you! Just make sure the car is parked before you start fighting for control. _He thought and began to test his bindings while feeling around the trunk, _Well... at least Laura's not here... maybe she'll be alright enough to find us and help us fix this! _

--

"_Time counts... and keeps counting..." damnit! why can't I remember the rest of that line! _Laura squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head, keeping her nose out of the black looking tarry puddle of blood that was still flowing freely and threatening during those moments of reduced consciousness, to drown her. _Dean's gonna be pissed... blood all over the floor... break out the peroxide... Why's Sam look so angry? _she wondered hearing a chuckle above her. Stiffly, with every muscle aching she finally managed to turn a bit. Her eyes met Jeremy's and she started to remember.

"You're gonna die a very very slow death tonight... and you're God's champion is going to watch... and the way will be opened for the world to devour itself..." he grinned with his elbows on his knees. He watched her eyes flick to Sam in the drivers' seat and smiled, leaning down, his incorporeal hand caressing her cheek, "...Sam? he's the one who's going to kill you... then he'll kill his brother... and then... he will be martyr to the new world... revered, honored, cherished and worshipped before all others... maybe even before HIM..." the apparition seemed to think for a moment before shrugging, "but maybe not... we'll see..." he smiled as something thumped behind him.

--

Strong, long fingers pulled her out of the car and into the night air, sparks erupted in her head as it cracked hard against the lower lip of the door jamb then bounced against the comparatively soft grassy earth. She hadn't realized until he grasped her by the rope that had been wound between them, but her feet were bound and as he tugged her along over the ground she started to get the feeling that maybe things weren't going very well.

_Oh hell..._ she thought noting the silhouettes of three robed figures, outlined by the orange glow of a bonfire and standing around the first of two, what looked like picnic tables with cloths on them, _yeah... that's not looking real good... I should probably start struggling or something... _she thought and her body followed the command.

For a surprising moment her feet slipped from Sam's grip and she started to roll, "...bitch..." she heard him snarl and felt her eyes bulge. His legs straddled her and his fist collided into her temple like a boulder, knocking the sense right out of her for the time being.

--

Dean felt his head snap in a half-circle as his brothers' open palm smacked him. He felt those long fingers grab his short shorn hair and demand his attention, "Hey! Open your eyes!" Sam's voice directed.

Dean felt himself blink, he felt his eyes move to the sound of that voice he knew so well and he felt his teeth grind hard into the gag in his mouth.

"See that?" Sam asked repositioning his head one more time, to be certain he did see what that thing that was using his little brother wanted him to see. The silhouette of his girl secured to a table with a long sickle-like blade, _a sling blade..._ he thought, angled directly above her chest. Slowly he nodded.

"Make one move Dean and her heart will be carved out faster than you can take your next breath... you understand?" Sam asked tightly.

Dean nodded and swallowed hard despite the dryness in his throat, _Aww Sammy... come on man... fight it please! Whatever it is that's wormed its way into you... eew kinky... seriously please... fight it man... please..._ air 'woosh'ed' out of him as he was thrown out of the trunk and onto the ground then dragged toward the altar made just for him.

_What the hell did you do to her?_ he thought not realizing his throat was making corresponding noises.

"What'd I do to her?" Sam asked as the others cinched ropes between the slats to secure him to the table top. He cast a glance at the unconscious woman then met his brothers' eyes again and frowned, "Nothing... just beat the crap out of her... I gotta say, it was fun..." he smiled and wiggled his eyebrows while slapping Dean just a little too hard.

"Still... really... it IS nothing compared to what's coming..." he leaned over and looked at one of the robed figures, he nodded once then looked back into the hunter's windowpane eyes, "Wanna see?" he asked.

Dean shook his head but Sam's hand grasped it and turned it so he couldn't help but see as one of the robed figures approached Laura's unconscious form, a flaming stick in hand. "Ooooo!" Dean called, the protest obvious despite the gag as he watched the figure push the flame against her body.

His eyes filled and overflowed almost immediately, every nuance of emotion written boldly on his face for the universe to see and read as she screamed, roused by the pain only to find it doused just as quickly by the flow of water onto the spot.

Dean could hear the skin sizzling beneath the rhythm of her breathless panting. He heard the sound of her voice, through her own gag, the pitch unmistakably threatening. His breath hitched, grateful she had fight inside, hoping that somehow they'd get out of this, save his little brother before he did something he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for, and find a way to permanently disable these evil sons of bitches before they hurt anyone else.

"Ooh... hey how's about an instant replay huh?" Sam smiled, his eyebrows jumping jovially again despite Dean's protests, futile as they may be. He nodded making sure to keep the older Winchester's head angled in the direction of the woman and grinned, licking his lips as another flaming stick was brought forth, the previous one returned to the edge of the bonfire. "Hey... not so fast this time..." he smiled and received a wordless nod from the figure as it laid the flaming wood onto her abdomen. The smell of burning cotton filled the air followed closely by the scent of something starting to cook.

_Stop! Please stop it! ... oh God..._ Dean thought gagging on his own revulsion as she strained and pulled, grinding against screams that wanted to roll out into the night, somehow still fighting.

--

tbc.

Please R&R...

Thank You,

sifi.


	10. Chapter 10

Darkfalling – chpt 10.

by: sifi

--

Moments of consciousness bobbed and yawed punctuated by defining moments of surreal torment. Darkness threatened frequently, until there was no fear of it, only a longing that was never fulfilled.

_Promises promises..._ she thought feeling surprisingly little now as they held her head back, opened her mouth and poured still more of their vile concoction down her throat. Protests from Dean tied down on the table beside hers, had ceased quiet a while ago, or she'd simply stopped hearing it. The pain in his voice hurt her, tore at her more viciously and cruelly than any of the torments the cultist captors were visiting on her person. Still, to soothe her own conscience, she had to glance at him once in a while, make sure his chest was still rising and falling, make sure he was still alive. Neither of them could remain conscious much longer. True they'd started on her, and they were using her to hurt him just as they were using him to hurt her, but other than striving to survive or giving in, neither of them saw much choice at the moment.

Her eyes slid over the hooded figures to the tallest of them and she felt tears come again, _Sam, I'm soo sorry... I'm sorry I couldn't stop this... I'm sorry I couldn't help you... I'm sorry I couldn't save your brother... forgive me Sam... please..._ she thought earnestly then added, _...and I'm sorry I couldn't save Sam for you Dean...I knew I'd eventually fail, but why now? Why the two people I love most in the world? I hope they kill me tonight..._

--

Dean watched, barely able to breathe as Sam, now dressed in his own robe moved through the other cultists, hood down, eyes searing into Dean's. He held out his right hand as he passed among the other three, and received in it a coil of plaited leather. Without a glance at the emissary he moved to the elder hunter, bending over him, his hand twining in his close cropped and sweat soaked hair, while the other held up the whip. He watched Dean's eyes flick to it and smiled.

"No... it's not the same one Alana used on me... this one's just a little different see?" he asked holding up and spinning a section of it in the firelight, revealing metal bearings that had been threaded onto each strip of leather before it had been woven to create the body of the whip.

Dean's eyes bulged in his head and he struggled against the ropes that bound him as his teeth ground into the gag, _is it just me or do I have more slack here?_ he thought pulling yet again, hoping he was right and not imagining things.

"Don't worry Dean... it's not for you yet... not until she can't take anymore... then you can have your turn..." Sam grinned holding a section of the diabolical tool away from the handle. He doubled it up and rose to his full height smacking the weight of it against the palm of his hand. "Oooh...hurts so good..." he purred.

Dean felt it coming before Sam even moved, _Oooh no..._ he thought, feeling as if a barbell bar had been used to swing for the back fences right through his abdomen. He wouldn't have been surprised if there was a vacuum cleaner hose sucking the air out of his lungs and he gagged wondering if his spine was going to get caught between the slats of the table. Then he registered the blur of motion that was Sam's arm raising up, trying to slam the doubled over torture device through him. He coughed and sputtered, blinking reflexive water from his eyes as his lungs struggled to feed his brain enough oxygen to stay conscious.

Sam leaned forward once again, his fingers returning to Dean's hair, taking another fistful of it as his mouth came to his ear, "Just so you get an idea of what she's going to be feeling, but hey...at least it's not a bike chain right?" he snarled scathingly and felt the older hunter gasp, watching his eyes plead first then grow hard, "...Whassa matter Dean? Truth hurts too much to remember? That was your fault too...all because you couldn't dig your way out of your own self pity!" he stopped at the look on the Champion's face, there was a fine line between breaking him and steeling his resolve, _Can't lose sight of the objective..._ he reminded himself and pointed with the handle of the whip to the emissary on the other table who finally seemed to be coming all the way back to consciousness.

"This?" he smiled and shrugged lightly, "This is gonna be your fault too... in a way."

"Aaam! Ooooh!...Ooon oo iiis...aaaammeee!" he called through the thinning material in his mouth and raged against the ropes that still bound him, _either I'm getting thinner or they ARE getting looser...it's not for lack of knot tying ability... please... whatever's gotten into you Sam... I hope to GOD this is you fighting it! You'll never be able to forgive yourself if you don't..._ feeling slack where there had been none before, Dean began the arduous task of slyly, methodically moving his hands and wrists, trying to give himself room to work.

_Please help me get out of this... help me help her... what the hell does he mean she'll last longer than I will...huh... he's probably right though... she did cross what? Three states with a steel spike through her body...crazy woman... stubborn, pig headed, yeah, even arrogant sometimes... but definitely Bat Out Of Hell crazy! Why can't I ever love someone and NOT have them in harms way? Maybe it's me...maybe I'M the cursed one, heh...okay, I don't know if I can... but so help me, I swear I'll do everything in my power to stop loving them, or needing them, if you'll just give them back their lives... whole, uneventful... safe... please don't let them be hurt anymore, not because of me..._ he thought desperately hoping something might be listening, but not really expecting it.

--

_Please help him... there's so much he doesn't know! There's so much he's in the dark about... I know you and Enki showed him the connection, I know he's aware he's tied to you, but not that he's... not that it's...or that Sam's... wait wait..._ she thought clinging to something Dean had told her, something about Webber, _Freakin' Belladonna and Jimson weed! _Her train of thought careened out of control_...Where the HELL did they get Jimson Weed! Damnit I can't think straight!...Jimson Weed mixed with blackthorn AND Devil's weed... yeah... that's like a freakin' psychic signal booster! Sam's gonna need a head CT for sure when this is all over... _

The sound of the man she loved pleading through the gag in his mouth drew her attention back to the moment and she watched Sam walk toward her slapping what looked like a looped over belt in his hand, _No stupid... that's a whip..._ she told herself and swallowed dryly as he stood at her side, his eyes glinting in the darkness, dancing with firelight in them. _You got really great eyes Sammy... except when they're all dark and evil...then they're kinda... dark... and... and... evil..._ and to the amazement of absolutely everyone present a single chuckle multiplied into a rolling laughter that had her gasping through the gag in almost no time.

Sam leaned in, his expression curious, "I hope you can keep laughing... let's see huh?"

"Oooh!" she shook her head, her eyes wide, "Oooh...eeezz! aaam!" but for the life of her she couldn't stop laughing! _Oooh I am soo stoned delirious! This is gonna suck sooo big! It's gonna suck big fat donkey...balls..._ another ball of laughter rolled out of her even as her belly twitched, the feel of the back end of Sam's blade sliding smoothly from rope section to rope section, cutting through one of her favorite t-shirts.

"Oooo maaam!" she groaned as he looked up to one of the hooded cultists.

His eyes passed over each of them and he sighed shaking his head, "She's stoned..." he said disgusted then collected himself and shrugged, "Oh well... guess I'll just have to work harder then..." and once again, his movements faster than they should have been, even for a trained hunter, he stepped back, and with a fluid motion unfurled the whip bringing it to bear with a crack, and a series of studded thuds against the wooden table. The sound ended quickly with a gasping grunt and startled mewls from the back of her throat that started small but promised to grow quite large in due time.

--

"...please no..." Sam gasped, his forehead resting against the unseen barrier while his hands pushed futilely once more at the flexible but unyielding field that kept him separate from his world. He closed his eyes and sighed then opened them again, visualizing the bindings around his big brother's wrists. It wasn't that he could "See" them, but more that he could feel the rope, its tone and the texture of the knots that had been tied into it and he pushed, focusing his energy, trying to see in his mind first what he wanted to happen, and trying to grasp and hold onto that feeling Kaitlyn had reminded him of when he'd moved the cabinet, and again when he'd shot the pencil off the nightstand.

Despite the raging headache that felt like the jaws-of-life prying his brain apart from the inside, it wasn't nearly as difficult as moving that damned pencil had been. _I wonder if I'm drawing on any of them like that bastard drew on me? Does that make me as bad as it? What the hell IS an Igigi anyway?_ he pondered these questions, having gleaned bits and pieces from what felt like a churning laundromat dryer full of information too hot to get full hold of just yet. _Please guys... just hold on... hold on_.

Whipcracks thundered through the air about him, one right after another; vibrating it in a way it hadn't the previous evening when he'd been on the receiving end of the lashes, and the wet-gagging cries that followed close on their heels stabbed slowly through him. He knew it would only get worse unless he could do something.

Beneath the gag, he heard his brother and felt his voice inside his head, pleading for him to stop this, to take back control and fight whatever it was that had taken him over.

"Dean it's not me! I swear it isn't..."but Dean didn't understand, he had no way of knowing the truth of what had happened to his little brother, and despite that lack of knowledge, two very distinct feelings became crystal clear to Sam. So much so, the younger Winchester felt his breath shorten in his chest as a particular certainty he'd only experienced on one or two occasions in his life filled him again.

"_Why can't I ever love someone and NOT have them in harms way? Maybe it's me...maybe I'M the cursed one, heh...okay, I don't know if I can... but so help me, I swear I'll do everything in my power to stop loving them, or needing them, if you'll just give them back their lives... whole, uneventful... safe... please don't let them be hurt anymore, not because of me..." _he heard his big brother plead inside and felt the overwhelming sense of spread-too-thin desolation he would be forced to bear if such a promise were expected to be kept.

_But he'd be willing?... _perhaps what struck Sam the hardest in his lonesome little cell was that no matter how much fear Dean had that something sinister was using his little brother, and the accompanying fear that if something horrible happened tonight, Sam would never be able to forgive himself. He found a faith, unyielding and yet as flexible as the barrier that held him back, a faith his brother held, not in some higher power, not in some obscure destiny, but in HIM, in his very own Sam Winchester. _Well I'll be damned Dean... _he thought stunned numb as breath trembled into his chest and a smile caressed his lips, _I guess I can't let you down NOW... can I?_ He smiled warmly, his heart pounding with a renewed sense of purpose, _Dean NEEDS me... he...needs ME... _

While another voice, tired, weak and dripping with despair whispered low, beyond his physical hearing, but not beyond his ability to sense.

_Please... let me go... this is... anything... Morrigan, Morgan... the gargoyles... that pig-bastard in Chicago... God it's worse than... please if I can't save Sammy... he doesn't deserve this... he's... and Dean...if I fail...please whatever else happens... I have to save Sam... for everyone's sake..._

Being made privy to the depth of his big brother's...everything, and both his and Laura's thoughts Sam began to understand how it was that the Igigi had been able to use them so perfectly. He also wondered if Alana and Jeremy, each with their own psychic abilities could be reached.

--

Jeremy sat at the kitchen table, his body gazing outward at the ceremony he'd been ordered away from, while his mind's eye remained focused inward. The faintest of smiles feathered his lips as he heard Laura's thoughts about Sam's dark, evil eyes and how this was going to suck donkey balls. He chuckled to himself feeling her laughter rolling inside her head. He'd genuinely been surprised when he'd found out she not only knew but was allied with the two men the mastress required, but to think he never would have known, well at least not until they'd brought them back, if it hadn't been for the slice of his consciousness that had been left in her head, the one he'd remained completely aware of. The same one he was still connected to.

He felt rather than saw, with each rise and fall of the Igigi's whip, with each scream that now faltered to a gasp, the doorway they'd been working so hard to first find, and then unlock, now slowly start to open, passage bought with blood for those trapped on the other side. He shuddered and his focus shifted to the thing that was pretending to be Sam Winchester. _When he gets out he'll kill you... I can't hold him from his rightful world forever._ He thought with a faint smile.

--

_Please! Please stop it!... don't hurt her anymore! Please..._ Dean pleaded both inside his head and against the gag as Laura lay gasping, and sobbing on her own altar. The sound of the studded whip tearing the wooden slats apart as it wrapped around then ripped into her skin thudding against her ribs, coupled with her pleading screams were sounds that would haunt him indefinitely, and when he could no longer hear her voice he wondered if she was to become a genuine sacrifice. In that instant his body and mind worked together to remind him one more time of everything he'd need to remember when she was gone. His eyes filled at the prospect and hate exploded into his chest as his eyes fell onto his baby brother. Hate for whatever had done this, for what had dared to violate HIS Sam and use him for its own means, use HIM to strip Dean's life of one more person he'd dared to care about.

Whatever was there, inside his little brother, he wanted it out and _If I have to reach inside and yank it out with my own two hands Sammy I swear you're gonna be free of this son of a bitch!_

As a faint breath hitched and grew still in the night beside him, the thing that looked like Sam turned, eyes met eyes and an eyebrow spocked at the elder hunter, "Looks like it's your turn Dean..." he said, the whip flicking out, the tip stinging into his side with a teasing snap, "Tag... you're it..." he said and turned to one of the cultists, "Bring the blood..." he lifted Dean's head, turning it so his eyes would once more see Laura, "Believe it or not... she's still alive. Give me an excuse to kill her Dean... please... just one cause you know... I'd really like to know how many licks it's gonna take to kill that bitch!" he snarled.

Out of the corner of his eye Dean could see the sweat dripping down his face and off his hair, _Sammy fighting from the inside, Laura stubborn as hell on the outside... you're getting a bit of a workout aren't you? Tire you out and maybe Sam can get control again! Come on Sammy... I know you're in there somewhere... I know you can do this!_ he thought into the blue-green eyes that danced darkly beside his.

A chalice found its way into Sam's hand, the steaming scent of cooking blood and herbs crawling thick and heavy up Dean's nose like skunk stink. He shook his head as the gag was finally removed and he took a moment to work his aching jaw a bit before trying to find Sam within those eyes, "No thanks...I'd love a cold beer though..." he asked then frowned, "Come on Sammy! I know you're in there somewhere... fight this son of a bitch willya?" he pleaded looking confused when a chuckle rolled out of the chest that held him up.

"Heh heh... yeh... no. No Dean... you don't get to win this one..." he pointed to the cultist who stood once more with the sling blade poised above Laura's body, "See... I know what means the most to you... and aside from me? all you've got left is her... so... if you want to buy her more time... you won't try to do anything stupid... the door is already swinging open... anything you do would be useless anyway..."

"Then why don't you just let us go huh? You got what you wanted? You got your damned door open... so get out of Sam and let us go!" he argued.

"Hmmm... no... I'm just having way too much fun... and you still don't get it do you Dean? You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for though I'll give you that... Dad... he was a coward... left you holding the bag and now by the time the sun rises and the door closes, the rest of the Igigi will descend on the so-called normal people of the world and they'll feast until there's only our kind left," he stopped and watched belief flicker over Dean's face, and a sense that something horrible had just been unleashed and with satiny satisfaction he nodded grasping the hunter's jawbone, "...and you helped make it happen..."

Sam's arm curled around Dean's head, his fingers pinching his nose closed, forcing the ceremonial concoction down his throat bit by bit, enjoying the feel of the gag reflex as Dean fought it down, enjoying the heat that was building under his skin as the combined properties of the ingredients infiltrated his body.

Sam pressed his lips to Dean's temple, squeezing him firmly with shimmering eyes, "For all you've done here tonight, even that one..." he motioned to Laura, "...I can't begin to express how much I love you both...your names will be revered... at least among those of us who remain..."

--

tbc.

Please R&R

Thanks, sifi.


	11. Chapter 11

Darkfalling – chpt 11

by: sifi

--

Jeremy knew that the thing outside didn't really care if its body lived or died, like the other 'demons' he'd been able to see his whole life, nothing could really kill them. At least nothing he'd encountered yet. Once the body it created while moving through Sam's was dead, the creature inside would be relegated once more to cultivating and feeding off the vice and darkness that plagued the human spirit. _Mastress thinks they'll weaken the population so that in time all that'll be left are people like me? People like Alex, or Dean or Laura, people who are resistant to the darkness inside, but even we can be worn down... and then the few like poor Sam... I feel so sorry for you, you still don't understand do you?_ he thought and felt Laura gasp at the periphery of his consciousness, _She knows!..._ but there was nothing he could do.

At the same time he felt her gasp and knew she'd just found one of the most important keys to the puzzle he felt heat in the back of his mind, warm, golden, and comforting as the thread of light between worlds widened and the first few Igigi began their race to freedom.

--

The thing that looked like Sam turned its attention from the boy's unconscious brother back to the emissary. _Bored... sooo bored..._ it thought looking at Dean, watching his blood glisten blackly in the light of the half moon, as it soaked upward through his t-shirt, _Good thing I didn't cut his shirt off... he wouldn't have lasted three hits let alone five...I'm not even sure he was conscious for the fifth one... humans...why he gave them this world and relegated US... the FAITHFUL who CREATED this physical plane... to some obscure half-realm existence! TAUNTING us with the energy of their Vices, their Desires and Weaknesses! Oh GOD the pain they visit upon each other... and themselves! Oooh that one... such a complex! Never good enough, never important enough... second fiddle to the baby... IF you only KNEW you blind pathetic fool... but that's not the point... Siphoning their energy to dole out to us as if we're no more than flies to his pet spiders! It's okay though... when HE arrives we'll send Enki the message that we're here, ready to fight for what SHOULD be ours! His Champion and the Battle Maiden's sword hand..._ he spat and sneered, the tip of his blade tracing the slowly reddening string of loops and swirls that read; "Sam Winchester" as it was carved layer by layer into her exposed belly.

"Come on! Come on!... this is the Emissary of GODS!" he asked angrily, frustrated by the lack of consciousness of his toys while the others stood nearby awaiting instructions, "This is the GUARDIAN of both the CHAMPION and the CATALYST!? Even now she's begging to Die! to be relieved of the burden..." he pressed downward on the blade point where the 'I' was dotted and watched it sink a couple millimeters into the flesh there.

"Something's happening inside the house..." Alana noted, her head cocked to the side as the light pouring from the door and windows seemed to turn just a little richer if not brighter. Still she did not move, and instead waited.

"It might be the boy trying to break free... Jeremy said he was already testing the boundaries while you were en route back from..."

"Fine! Go to your offspring! Once everything is back under control..." he stopped, his eye catching a gleam at Laura's neck, "Bring a bolt cutter or some pruning shears with you."

--

_The Guardian of us? The GUARDIAN of us? How long? When did it start? With this case? Was that when it started or did it start with the accident? What if NONE of this is a coincidence?_ "No... I can't think about that right now... I have to get out of here... I have to save them, then we can figure it out... if we call her on it she'll tell us the truth... I know she will... she has to..." he sighed feeling the last bit of Dean's rope slide out from the last anchoring twist. As soon as he comes all the way back he'll be able to get himself out of there... _now I just need to focus on getting ME out of HERE... the Igigi did it by feeding on pain..._ he looked up, his eyes on Laura's altar, "He said she wants to die, she's begging to die... but I don't feel any breaks here..." he muttered to himself, running his hands over the smooth as plexiglass barrier that seemed to be some sort of gatehouse.

"If it used our weaknesses to break free... but it still had to use a conduit... which means that our weaknesses are inherently weak to begin with and can be overcome... oh man, this is one of those, 'there is no spoon' things she gets such a kick out of..." _Stop Sam... just stop... listen... feel them... _but it was hard to focus when it seemed as if a world was opening up behind him, one that wanted to draw him into it rather than send him along with the flow of light as it reached out past his little cell, dotted with beings he wouldn't have recognized if it hadn't been for Alex Bentley and her description of the demons that fed on people. _Are THOSE Igigi?_ he wondered, _Wow..._ he watched the light darken with the volume of them that had been unleashed, _oh man... this might be really, really bad..._

--

Dean closed his eyes working his hands as subtly as possible, _Almost... come on... damnit! keep him occupied honey...I'm sorry but you have to keep him occupied... Sammy tell me this is you! Please tell me... _he felt the rope slip from his left hand. _Oh thank God!_ he sighed and even as he started working on rope that bound his right hand, he could feel it moving under his fingertips though not for his own efforts. _Sammy please tell me that's YOU trying to fight this thing!_

--

"It's me Dean... I'm trying..." Sam smiled, his focus seeming to come a little more easily now, "Don't lose hope man... I'm here... that thing out there isn't me!" _Just need to figure out how to get myself out of here._ He pushed again and wondered if he was imagining an increase in the barrier's flexibility. He stopped pushing and spared a moment of focus on everything else that was going on.

As the newly patrolled creatures fled their prison of light Sam turned his attention to their progress noting there were many colors among them. _Alex only ever described gray smokey ones... there's yellow ones, gold ones, silver... there's as many types of these guys as there are races of people..._ a mewl and scream sounded to his right and he felt his body turn within the approximately 3 foot diameter tube that was his cage and he watched, uncertain for a moment of what was happening as half a dozen of the dark gray ones hovered around Jeremy, tendrils of smoke seeming to wave bits of him into their twisted lumpy mouths.

"I gotta get to Dean and Laura... I gotta get them out of here..." he said once more running his hands over the transparent wall. As Jeremy's concentration was disrupted the wall seemed to grow more flexible, but maddeningly it refused to crack, or separate, or allow him any egress.

Frustrated he slammed his fists against the barrier only to find himself having to react quickly to stop them from ricocheting back again.

"I won't let you down Dean...I'm GOING to get out of here and get you and Laura safe! I swear to God I won't let you down..." he ground out between clenched teeth, feeling the second rope slide back through its pinning end with much greater ease now.

"You swear to who?" he heard feeling his heart stop then take off at a gallop as his concentration faltered and a shiver shook him. With his skin tingling in that, my-foot-fell-asleep way, Sam peeled his attention away from what was happening in his rightful world and turned around.

--

Alana and one of the others entered the kitchen, she reached behind the door and handed a key to the other who stood eyeing Jeremy curiously. Jeremy sat still as stone and just as pale, barely breathing, in the corner of the kitchen, on the counter.

"There's bolt cutters in the shed... give them to him..." she directed pushing the other cultist back outside while behind her the house seemed to be trying to glow with a deep gold that felt like it wanted to be copper.

--

At Laura's side the thing that looked like Sam, looked from the glow emanating from the house to the cultist who'd remained, awaiting orders. "It's time..." he smiled sensing a change in her breathing. He pulled the tip of his blade from one of many holes he'd made in the underside of her upper arm and brought it back down to her belly where once again he began to trace Sam's name as it was carved into her body, only this time, he wasn't doodling absently.

_Oh God Stop this! Sam! Please... you got me almost free... please just fight a little longer! Just stop that thing! PLEASE!_ Dean thought desperately, listening to his girl grinding her teeth, gritting her jaw and trying hard to be brave and swallow down the pain she was feeling. All the while his fingers pulled and pushed, easing the rope around his right wrist, giving him enough slack to begin to work on the one that crossed his chest.

Laura watched as Sam's eyes studied the light that was coming from the house, seeming to look for something and for every moment he wasn't finding it, his pressure on the blade increased.

"Okay fine..." he snipped sliding the point of the blade into one of the myriad cuts, sideways, just under the skin, lifting it off the connective tissue beneath.

A scream she wouldn't have believed was left tore out her throat and she started to gag as trembling once more became shaking and cold swept over her while her extremities went numb and shock returned. _Just get it over with... forgive me... I don't have enough..._

On his table, his fingers between loops, the strength, volume and raw agony of her scream set Dean shaking so he almost lost the rope end. He wanted to scream at the thing inside Sam to get away from her, wanted to 'hulk' the ropes off himself and let loose the Berserker inside him but he knew better. Their best chance of survival right now lay in him getting free and freeing Laura and Sam.

The cultist that had gone with Alana returned beaming brightly at Sam and handed him the bolt cutter he'd asked for.

"Ahh... something to make me happy... see, there's something wrong with this picture...don't you think?" he asked leaving the knife sticking sideways out from the layers of her skin and standing up, his finger sliding under the Torque of gold that marked her as Cernunnos' emissary, and through him, an emissary of the Battle Maiden.

His eyes traced the yarn-like path of blood that made his name visible. "Oooh tasty..." he grinned leaning over and flattening his tongue against her belly, lapping up the spillage intimately.

"Mmm...yeah, that's better..." he licked his lips and held up the bolt cutter. "Hold her head," he instructed.

Laura felt hands clasp her head and turn it to the side. A chill went up her spine as the curved end of the cutter was slid against her neck then angled properly. She felt a pull on the far side of her neck and realization of what he was about to do struck like lightning.

"Ooooh!" she barely had the strength to sigh while her eyes pleaded uselessly with his.

_It's only a symbol... just a symbol, it doesn't change anything... _she assured herself and felt another fresh fall of tears as the blade of the cutter slid through the torque. Once it was placed there by the patron, only the patron was allowed to remove it.

Sam's hands encircled the now open ends of the ring and he pulled, bending the soft metal with relative ease. Grinning he pulled it from her, held it in the air, and cast it into the heart of the bonfire.

--

Dean was sliding the last turn of rope over his right ankle when the cheer went up among the cultists as Sam tossed a ring into the fire. At the same time, a wash of brilliant coppery light poured from the open door and windows of the house, the light infused with a terrible, blood curdling scream.

He slid off the table and crouched low, the cultists momentarily forgotten as a vague shape whose size and stride he knew well, moved within the light. He felt his lips spread in a giant smile _Son of a BITCH! I freakin KNEW it!_ he turned to his left, his eyes burning with unspent rage as he charged through the half dozen steps it took to reach the cultists, and wrapped his hands into the robe that garbed the tallest of them.

"You son of a bitch!" he snarled, his fist colliding over and over again, oblivious to the hell that had broken loose inside the house and sent the two remaining cultists scrambling to the road. Only one voice was able to finally cut through the noise and bring him back to the moment.

"Dean! Stop!" that voice he knew said softly.

Warm hands closed on his and the face he loved so well smiled gently, crouched beside him, "Dean..." he said.

"Why?! Do you have any idea?... what... Sam..." he questioned looking from the imposter to his little brother.

"I know... but you have to stop Dean, you can't do this..." Sam shook his head his eyes pleading.

"Why the hell NOT!" he demanded furiously.

Sam swallowed and his lips twitched faintly, "Because once will be enough if it comes down to it..." Sam took control of the semi-conscious imposter and nodded to the other altar, "Get Laura..."

Dean nodded and rose warmed by the fruition of his faith.

"It's too late... it's done and you can't stop it! You can't undo it!" the imposter hissed as Sam grasped it tightly.

Wordlessly, eyes glassy with facets of anguish, he nodded. His body moved with a squeeze and twist, and the unmistakable sound of bones breaking rang out against the sudden stillness that filled the back yard.

Dean looked up in time to see whatever it was that had been within that robe, whatever it was that had made him doubt his little brother for even a second, collapse and flow out onto and into the earth.

His eyes returned quickly to the brutalized and tormented flesh of what was his, "Aww jeez..." Dean groaned, his fingers slipping in their haste to untie her hands.

"What happened? what's? Where's Sam? Dean please! What HAPPENED!?" she gasped through chattering teeth while pulling her hands from the ropes and trying to sit up.

For the moment Dean was glad she was still held down across the chest, "Laura honey... you gotta hold still here 'kay? Sam's fine... it wasn't him...it was something... some... THING..."

"Get me up... please..." she sniffed fighting back tears as her hands pulled shakily at the rope across her chest.

"Sweetheart... there's a knife in your tummy..." he explained softly while Sam finished with the ropes at her ankles and started on the one across her knees.

"Get it out!" she yelled forgetting that sometimes it's best to leave a foreign body in place until the extent of damage can be determined.

"Sam?... is that you?" she asked looking at the young man at the foot of the table.

"Yeah...it's me..." he smiled weakly, his voice betraying the depth of his guilt, but that was something they could work around.

"You're not dead?" she asked, "Or... evil?"

"No... not yet..." he smiled softly and ducked below the table to work the knot.

Dean frowned at his brother's comment, _Not EVER Sammy... it's not in you!_ then turned his attention to the task at hand, "Are you ready now?" he asked noting that the blade was nearly flat against her abdomen and the point seemed almost to be ready to emerge from beneath her skin just a few inches away. She found his eyes in the darkness and biting down on her bottom lip held them while he took a steadying breath.

"Lay back and hold still..." he pressed his forearm across her chest and slid the blade from the sheath it had made of her body, "Oh I think I'm gonna be sick..." he groaned pulling a strip of her t-shirt onto the wound and pressing down while she started to catch her breath.

"Okay..." Sam said softly, sliding the last of the rope from across her hips now, setting her completely free.

With their help she sat up stiffly, her hand holding pressure to her belly though there was surprisingly little blood flowing. The wound would ooze, but blood loss would be insignificant since the blade had sliced through surface capillaries and fat rather than larger vessels. Still, even knowing this, she was unsure if she was going to pass out again, throw up, or manage to regain her balance. Through one eye, in the hopes of slowing the vertigo she looked at Sam, angling her head up to meet his eyes, "Some... THING huh?"

The younger Winchester nodded, a deep sense of guilt twisting his features as he motioned to the puddle of goo near the bonfire.

Laura nodded and winced a half smile, "So you're really you now?" she asked.

"Yeah," he nodded.

She leaned into Dean who wasn't quite sure if he was holding her up or if she was holding him up. His attention was fixed on the shadows dancing in the flames that were engulfing the house behind them. He wasn't sure but he thought he might've seen something move and he wondered if Alana and Jeremy had gotten out.

"Sam..." she said smiling wanly, wrapping her arms around Dean's waist, holding him comfortingly to herself.

"Yeah?" he cocked his head to the side.

"Sweetie?" she groaned.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Are you aware that you're nekked?" she grinned.

Dean's head whipped around and he did a double-take then grasped Laura by the chin and focused her eyes onto his, "Damn dude!" he smirked at Sam who looked down, then back up, his eyes comically huge. Obviously he hadn't been aware of it.

As Sam froze for a moment, his eyes darted around looking desperately for something to wrap himself into, Dean kept his eyes locked with Laura's. He smiled softly into her beleaguered face. She smiled tiredly back, cupping his cheek with her hand and sweeping his lips with hers before she turned her head and watched Sam move toward a pile on the ground that he hoped was some kind of material.

"Hey ..." Dean said, his voice light as he watched her watch his naked little brother, "That's my brother..." he reminded her gently while wiping some of the grit and grime of the evening off her face.

Smiling she returned her attention to the man she loved, "And ... 'Wow'... definitely runs in the family..." she sighed making Sam turn several interesting and entertaining shades of red before she rested her forehead against Dean's chest, her breath coming hard and wheezing just a bit.

Holding her gently, knowing she was wearing a brave face for them Dean turned her, gathering her into his lap where he could let her rest and captured her lips tenderly.

"At least I'm not blue..." Sam retorted under his breath doubling over and tying one of the robes that had been left behind, around his waist before he moved to the bonfire and looked down at the unsalvageable jeans and shirts the imposter had stolen when it passed through him and reconstructed his identity.

"Son of a bitch!" he cursed crouching down and digging through the pockets of the jeans. He found the car keys, his wallet and some slime covered change he decided to leave in the pocket as he picked up the garments and tossed them onto the fire.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about..." Dean sighed as Laura relinquished his mouth and rested her head on his chest.

He helped her to her feet, supporting her securely at his side, "Hey! nudie boy! You ready to go or what?" he called, pulling Sam's attention from the fire. He didn't miss the troubled expression on his little brothers' face, but for the moment he was content for them to get out of there. The damage had been done and the sun was graying the horizon. That they'd all survived the night would have to be enough for now.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thank You.

sifi


	12. Chapter 12

Darkfalling – chpt 12.

by: sifi.

--

"Show me..." Laura mouthed more than even whispered as she touched her index finger to Sam's temple, careful not to wake him.

She felt the change take place, his imprisonment between worlds while the one who'd held watch for eons; used him, molded a human body out of the stuff of the young Winchester, feeding on his guilt and fear to free itself to pursue its own agenda, heedless or perhaps knowing full well what damage may be wrought.

She felt his struggles to break free as the thing that had, in its own way, become him charged out of the bathroom and attacked, first Dean, and then her. She felt him screaming his protests, railing against the imposter, trying to stop it by any means possible, from the psychic ability Kaitlyn had taught him he had a chance to control, to trying to communicate with either of them.

By the time Dean was nearly free of his bonds on his makeshift altar Sam was not only exhausted in every way imaginable, but walking a razor sharp tightrope between a desire to actively take himself out of the future and an almost longed for descent into madness that would enable him to put himself deliberately into a situation he could not survive.

"_I won't let you down Dean...I'm GOING to get out of here and get you and Laura safe! I swear to God I won't let you down..."_ she heard him grind out between clenched teeth, she could even feel the second rope slide back through its pinning end, and she felt his skin tingle in that my-foot-fell-asleep way as a shiver shook him and his heart began to gallop in his chest.

"_You swear to who?"_ she heard with his ears and felt him turn around, his eyes burning and squinting into the light of that world that had opened up behind him.

The next thing either of them knew, he was walking through the kitchen of Alana's house. He was aware that Alana and Jeremy were in there but not because he saw them. Only because he could feel them there, on his right, in the back corner, and someone had screamed, it rang in his ears for a brief moment and consequently hers before it was snapped abruptly off. There was no compulsion to turn his head, no desire to look at the people who'd brought such pain into his life, no kind of acknowledgment that they were there at all.

He reached the apex of the coppery light as its finger pointed into the night, urging him out into the darkness as something behind him roared in much the same way a gasoline soaked corpse would, a belch of a roar followed by crackling, flickering tongues of orange and yellow that sought fuel to sustain its own existence.

She saw through him the grin that overtook his big brothers' face as Sam found his luminous green eyes lit by fire and copper ethereality, when recognition mated with comprehension. Dean was fury unleashed as he attacked the thing that wanted to be Sam.

_No Dean! You can't kill it! It'll just do to you what it did to me..._ he strode quickly to his brother and crouched beside him, stopping him before he fell to the Berserker inside, _Not to mention the fact that you'll never be able to get the sight of yourself killing me out of the back of your head... you've got enough horrible things sleeping inside you, let me get this one. _

"_Dean! Stop!"_ he said softly and closed his hands around the older mans. His big brother, his emotions sometimes so easy for Sam to see, screamed out to be spent. _"Dean..."_ he said again.

"_Why?! Do you have any idea?... what... Sam..."_ the older hunter asked incredulous, though his joy at having his true little brother back was quickly overshadowing his need for vengeance. _Geez man... You really ARE gold ...please don't ever lose that... _

"_I know... but you have to stop Dean, you can't do this..."_ Sam pleaded with the puppy-dog eyes he knew his brother couldn't resist.

"_Why the hell NOT!"_ he demanded furiously.

Sam swallowed and his lips twitched faintly, _Because with me out of there, it's time is almost over anyway... because it's an elementary principle of physics, no two objects can occupy the same space at the same time... because one day you might have to kill me and I won't burden you with that vision any sooner than absolutely necessary... Because I know you, and I know that even though it's an imposter you'll have nightmares that it was really me. _Inside he sighed, _But mostly because it made itself out of ME Dean, if you kill what it made it'll become you and trap you in some Igigi 'Phantom Zone' and I won't let that happen._

As much as she knew he'd wanted to say all that to his big brother, Sam couldn't at that moment, maybe he never would be able to explain it verbally, but discovering he'd learned that much about the nature of the creature was a surprise.

"_Because once will be enough if it comes down to it..."_ Sam finally explained while taking control of the semi-conscious imposter. He nodded to the other altar, _"Get Laura..." _

Dean nodded and left Sam to do the job as the imposter hissed, _"It's too late... it's done and you can't stop it! You can't undo it!"_ just before Sam grasped it tightly.

_I've unleashed a plague onto the world... I made it possible...all the suffering that's going to happen... 'Champion and Catalyst' he called us... Catalyst for what? The death of the human race?_ Nearly choking on these thoughts, his eyes glassy with despair, he nodded. She felt him move with a squeeze and twist, and _felt_ the sound of bones breaking against Sam's body.

--

Her heart felt heavy in her chest as tears slid silently from her eyes while she sat back on the floor, leaning against the bed she and Dean shared, her heart breaking for the weakening light of any kind of hope within the young Winchester.

_I have to do something... all this... it's going to kill him... or strengthen him... there's too many possibilities... I need information... what happened in that moment before he came out? What the hell is an Igigi? Are they tied to whatever it was they were trying to summon? Maybe even more important... did they succeed?_ her thoughts began to dance as she chewed on a torn leaf of skin.

"I feel so violated..." the slice of Sam sat directly across from her, his long legs on either side of hers as he smiled, "Hey... relax, I'm kidding...so, does your head EVER stop?" he caught her eyes with his, bringing them upward so they could have a face to face.

_Sam I'm so sorry ..._ she thought to him.

"For what?" he asked.

_I couldn't stop it... I couldn't protect you or Dean..._ she let her tears fall, _and now I don't know what's going to happen..._

He cocked his head to the side and reached out though his hand couldn't touch hers, "You have some ideas though right?" he asked.

She shrugged but her expression told a different story.

"Sure you do... c'mon, talk to me... I'm here, I'm listening... and I'm probably not going anywhere any time soon right? ... besides..." he looked over his shoulder at his sleeping self, "it's not like you have to worry about me over there remembering or even knowing about any of this right?"

Laura smirked and nodded, _I don't know... with your abilities... anything's possible. _

"So what? Take the chance, talk to me..." he urged with a shrug and those mile deep dimples.

_I'm terrified for you Sam..._

He nodded, the spocked eyebrow and crooked smile giving away just how close he and his brother had become, "Y'know I kinda got that... and truth be told..." he leaned forward as did Laura, "I'm scared for me too... but more for Dean... promise me Laura, whatever happens... you'll help him heal..."

An unexpected cascade of tears fled her eyes and ran from her chin, _If I could... you know I would..._

"What do you mean?" he asked with his head cocked, and all joking cast aside.

--

The slice of Sam sat stunned in the passenger seat of her car as it shot back to the tiny town that held the information she wanted.

--

"Call it... my need to know..." she grinned darkly, her hand tight on the throat of one Herbert Millstone. His face turned bright red, veins bulged in his forehead and the tender tissue under his eyes, the eyes that flicked over his wife and two children who sat in kitchen chairs watching this strange woman choke him to death. This was the same wife and two children who were unable to lift a finger to help him thanks to her influence.

"Laura don't... please..." the slice of Sam whispered urgently.

"Please..." Herb choked against her grip.

"Oh but I'm having so much fun..." she smiled pressing him hard against the wall, "Your pain gives me so much pleasure Herbie... maybe...Oh...heh..." she pressed her free hand to her mouth coyly, "...y'know... it's been a long time since I played hang-man...Stay..." she ordered and opened his shirt then pulled her pocket knife out and held it up so he could see it, "I'm thinking of a five letter word...and I'm pretty sure it's not vegetable or mineral...in fact... I'm not sure it's anything that can be defined in this particular dimension... what do you think Herbie?" she asked dragging the back side of the blade slowly across his chest as he whimpered and began to sweat while she outlined the gallows for the hangman, _I should flip this thing over and slice this son of a bitch wide open_, she thought.

"Please don't Laura... please..." Sam, her conscience for the time being pleaded with the puppy dog eyes Dean couldn't resist. She couldn't either, _Damnit!_ she looked at the image of Sam on her immediate right, his expression pleading. _Don't make me try and influence you back to your body... I've never tried that but I've wanted to on several occasions..._ she threatened.

"So... Herbie... honey... I'm a little bit jagged right now, as you might have guessed..." she snickered leaning into him with her elbow pressing deep into the xyphoid process of his sternum, (that little bone at the bottom of his breastbone). "I'm gonna ask you once, and I might even do it nicely..." she smirked while tracing her finger over his ear, down his throat then back up so its tip rested at his temple, "Show me..." she directed.

--

She turned the key in the ignition and let the fan blow into her face, drying the streaks of sweat that had finally slowed to a trickle.

"Hey... you okay?" Sam's bit of consciousness asked from the passenger seat while she gasped at the air coming in.

She nodded, holding her tongue, keeping her attention on breathing. _I'm so tired... I could sleep forever... 'If I close my eyes forever...' _she thought hearing Ozzy and Lita in her head, "Excellent song..." she breathed turning the radio on.

"Talk to me Laura... You know if anything happens to you it's going to hurt my brother... I won't let that happen..." he warned and received a dark look from her. Darker in fact than any kind of look he'd ever seen cross her face except when she'd killed that embodied demon that had locked Dean into his own head and brought his nightmares to life there.

"I've loved him since the moment the EMT's brought him to me..." she smiled remembering the pleading desperation in his beautiful glass green eyes, how he couldn't think of anything besides his little brother and the need to make sure he was alive. But she'd understood that need, he was a big brother, and she was a big sister... that knowledge was what made her take the step that sketched out the parameters of their relationship.

"I'm tired Sam... I could lay down..." she sighed.

"Good! Great! Do that!... recline the seat, lock the doors take a nap! Get some rest and some perspective... whatever it is you're planning I can see by the look on your face it's NOT going to be good!... please... if you won't do it for yourself, do it for Dean! Do it for me! I mean hell you're supposed to be our Guardian right?" he asked.

Laura brought her head forward just a bit and cracked her eye at him questioningly, "What're you talking about?"

"That thing... the one that was me? He called you the Guardian of the Champion and the Catalyst... I'm assuming Dean's the Champion since he's the one Jeremy saw all decked out in gold..."

"Really?" she asked with a faint smile while her head rolled back against the rest, "Sammy... there's nothing I wouldn't do for you and Dean... Lie for you, Die for you, whatever... and when we're all together, yeah... you guys are my responsibility... but not cause some, 'cloaked in other realm mysteriosity' deity says so... just cause I love you guys... course I frakked it up big time this time... gonna pay some hell for that... ooh self flagellation..." she mumbled as her eyes closed and her head lolled back to rest on her shoulder.

--

In their motel room each of the Winchester brothers lay in their respective beds, one dreaming of a life he knew they all could have once this darkness was put behind them and Big Bad's plans for his little brother, for the boy he raised to manhood were fully and finally thwarted.

The other moaned softly, dreaming of himself surrounded by incoroporeal beings of various shades and temperaments, all of them bowing to him. Each of them eager to serve his merest whim save the one quest that meant the most to him, his desire to find the perfect way to set his brother free from the burden that had been placed on his shoulders from the moment of his very conception. A coherent thought circled his mind though so acute was his exhaustion that he remained consciously unaware of it, _It's started... they're free... humanity is doomed and I'm the one who let it happen..._

--

"...get up!" Sam commanded furiously, bolting to his feet as his eyes came open and Dean sat up, swinging his legs over and half out of bed, ever attuned to his little brother.

"...am?" he questioned striding tensely to the taller man, fueled by adrenaline.

Sam frowned, looked around the room, noted the open bathroom door and scratched his head, "Laura's gone..." he muttered scrubbing his face while Dean looked around the room and pointed to the weekend bag in front of the nightstand.

"Her bag's here..."

"She's gone..." Sam shook his head, "She... she dipped into me..." he frowned and sat on the edge of the bed as Dean sat on the edge of his own, waiting for more.

"What? When?" he asked noting the motel pad under his phone, he picked it up and read it shaking his head then handed it to Sam.

"I don't... during the night..." he read the note then handed it back frowning, "Why would she go back?" he asked.

"Damn her!" Dean stormed whipping the notepad across the room where it fluttered with mocking lethargy to the floor.

"Because she's a God Damned Freakin' hard headed little..."

"Dean..." Sam pre-empted.

"Well she is!" he insisted making Sam smile a combination of smug and sincere pleasure at his big brother's predicament. "What I'd really like to know is how she had the energy to get herself anywhere at all after last night..." he muttered.

Their eyes met and they lurched to the door, Dean reaching it first and whipping it open, his eyes scanning the lot for her car.

"I don't see it..." Sam said.

"Damnit!" Dean slammed the door hard enough to make the wall shake before he checked his watch, "She said she'd call around supper time..."

Sam met Dean's eyes after checking his own watch, "We could hit the road and be there by suppertime..."

"What the hell do you think she's after? Why would she dip into you Sam? and How the hell do you know she did? Is it your abilities?" he asked momentarily oblivious to his little brother's stare.

Sam's eyes traced the lines of dried blood and broken skin around his big brother's chest and sides, the bruises slowly came into focus, not just evidence of love taps between siblings, savage deep purple ribbons and blossoms, and remnants of swelling where Sam's boot had connected with his jaw after the imposter had stormed from the bathroom taking the hunter by complete surprise, striking expertly, while he was most vulnerable. There were blood mats in his hair and cuts from Sam's own knife on the underside of his arms, _holes in Laura's, cuts in Dean's... tender place... oh God... how can he even look at me without feeling hate raging inside! I feel so filthy... _

"Dude you're creeping me out," Dean's voice pulled him out of his own head as he turned around and recognized Sam's expression. Sliding his flannel over the t-shirt Dean sat down to face a man who, at that moment, hated himself.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi.


	13. Chapter 13

Darkfalling - chpt 13.

by: sifi.

--

"Listen to me," Dean started once he was certain he had his brothers' full attention. "This wasn't you... You didn't do this... any of this... NONE of this is your fault...do you understand me? You canNOT hold yourself responsible for what other people; living, dead, undead or otherwise do! That includes extra-dimensional beings...just... for the record," he made sure to stipulate.

Sam shook his head, "That thing made itself out of me Dean... it used me to..."

"Image Sam! Your IMAGE... NOT you! The things it did? You don't have that inside you..."

"Obviously I do! It found it inside here somewhere!"

"Bullshit! That thing was evil to start with! Or at the very least... really cranky..."

The corner of Sam's mouth tilted, he knew Dean was telling the truth, he'd heard his thoughts clearly enough while he was trapped in that prison between, he'd felt the faith flooding the elder hunter, warming him as Sam had struggled to help him shed the ropes. _No, he never once lost faith in me..._ Sam thought and hung his head shamed somehow by this knowledge, _Then why can't I feel the same hope? Why can't I keep my head above the fear? _

"So... anything we need to know before we head out to drag that insane woman to Bobby's with us?" Dean asked watching his little brother carefully, fully attuned to his confusion, his doubt and uncertainties. _Let's give you something to focus on eh Sam? C'mon... work with me here..._

Sam looked up, his eyes sharp and penetrating. The sunrise drive back to the motel had been largely silent, with the exception of a consistent stream of Heavy Metal to keep them awake, and upon reaching the room all three of them had gone down like dominoes leaving wounds to be tended later, speculations to be examined later, escape from this region left for later. Now, it was later.

Vague smoky images refused to be put in their proper place in Sam's mind, he nodded, "Oh yeah... lots... we can go over it en route."

--

"...well how'd it start then? And was there any evidence of who would've done that to him?" Officer Marnie Boots asked her mentor and partner as they walked through the corridor of the hospital toward the ICU.

"That's the thing..." Roger Dawes shook his head, he'd been on the force for 15 largely uneventful years, but every now and again in his little town there was a surge in weirdness. "Fire Marshall's still investigating, seems to think there was a short in the wiring or something... I mean the way the fire started, in the walls and just... devoured the majority of the house, as for the other?... the guy probably used his own knife and walked out with it... the lab guys didn't find anything to indicate any of the kitchen knives was used..." he shook his head as they arrived at the doorway and looked in at the heavily bandaged remnants of a human being.

"And this guy was found clawing his way through the debris, holding his guts in his hands?" she asked.

"Mmm hmm..." Roger nodded.

"... now that's tenacity... what about the other one?" she asked.

--

"_Keep your eyes focused straight ahead... walk lightly... do you understand?" _the voice from the depths of the light asked.

"_Yes," _Sam's voice acknowledged while he steeled himself to do as directed.

"_Now... do as I told you and leave this place..." _it urged.

She felt Sam's body take in its deepest breath, felt his heart rate slow and strengthen, felt him reach out. Within him, she felt the key, and felt it turn. She startled inside the memory within her head as a shriek pierced the air and the barrier walls dropped, falling like a sheet of water thrown from a second floor balcony, it was gone. She felt Sam's mouth smile, felt his heart warm and his mind sigh relief as he walked out of the house, through the temperatureless light, his eyes straight ahead, his vision fixed on where he knew his brother was.

She knew he had no desire to look to his right. Unleashed back into his own world Sam felt no desire at all to acknowledge even the existence of the two people who'd brought so much pain to those he loved. _How did they know what to would open those channels though?_ a layer of thought moved beneath the slowed and revisited memory of Sam's departure from his temporary prison.

_and who ARE you?_ she wondered about the owner of that voice as her eyes came open safe in the womb of her car.

"Sam?" she asked yawning as she assessed the stiff and pained parts of herself.

"I don't think so bitch..." the slice of Herbie hissed from the backseat.

Laura groaned wondering if Sam's slice was still in there somewhere or if it had dissipated already, and wondering how long she could keep this up.

"Not long enough you sadistic bitch!" Herbie answered.

Laura laughed, "Me? You're calling ME a sadist? after what you took part in last night? After what you helped to bring into this world you dare call ME that?" she snarled forgetting for the moment that he wasn't really there.

"I didn't threaten to spill your guts in front of your family..." he challenged.

_No, you didn't threaten... you and Trevor Watkins, and Alana and Jeremy Stebbins actually did worse! You tortured the people I love, you used one's image and abilities to draw out something that hurt them both! Sam wants it OVER! You can't give him back..._ her fury stopped cold as an idea started to form in the back of her mind.

"But I didn't did I?" she sneered before shaking her head, clenching her jaw and forcing herself to move forward to the next destination. Despite his willing participation in the ceremonies of the past few days, she'd discovered that Herbie Millstone wasn't the brightest bulb in the box and hadn't been able to grasp much more than she already knew. _He knew what those compounds would do though..._ words fluttered loosely before her mind's eye, words like _microbleeds... synaptic overload..._ _The smart thing to do would be call him and leave him a message..._

"Are you listening to me bitch!?" slice of Herb hollered from the back seat.

"Nothin' like starting at the bottom of the food chain Herbie... doesn't it just piss you off like crazy that Alana didn't think she could trust you to keep everything straight?" she asked pulling out onto the main drag where her eyes fell on a fast food joint and her car took her there to the tune of a grumbling stomach.

"It doesn't matter what you say... I know what you are... you're nothing more than a whore... giving what you got... all that power to some panty waste of a God that only wants to sit back in his little world and keep us down!... What we set free last night? They're gonna set people like us free... they're gonna clear the way for us to finally get what's coming to us..." he taunted from the back seat.

"Oh Herbie... you're gonna get what's coming to you alright... and you got no one to blame but yourselves when it comes..." she smirked and handed the cashier her money while his eyes glanced through the car, looking for someone she might be talking to.

"You're a traitor!" he screamed into her ear making her wince and nearly drop the bag between the window and the car.

She smiled weakly at the cashier and pulled into a spot, closed the windows and cranked the intricate harmonies of Queen while trying to ignore the piece of consciousness that spat epithets and insults with astounding verbal alacrity. She managed to choke down about three bites of the quarter pounder (no cheese), before she turned, looked into non-existent eyes staring maliciously out at her from the backseat and snarled with a firm mental push, "Get back home Loretta..." borrowing from her beloved Sir Paul.

His image leaned forward and his lips curled smugly, "No," he returned.

"NOW!" she pushed harder and though she could feel resistance, she actually managed to rid herself of him, at least for the time being. _I should've asked what his ability was before I did that... do all these guys have abilities? Every one of 'em drank that crap... including Jeremy...huh...tolerance? Maybe... aah damn..._ she groaned pinching the bridge of her nose.

Gasping she leaned back against the seat, her skin peppered in goosebumps, heart thumping wildly in her chest as warm wetness oozed down her belly and into her jeans. Reaching for the burger, her hands shook so hard she pressed her arms, all the way to the wrists to her body to steady them. Trying to bite the assembly-line-stomach-filler she managed only to bite her tongue three times before realizing she had to tear pieces and just try to stuff them into her mouth, her fingers seemed to be able to take the snap of her jaw a little better than her tongue could.

--

"...so these things are 'lesser' gods, but they're still gods?" Dean asked.

"That's what Bobby's information says..."

"And he's _scanning_ the information to you?"

"Yep," Sam nodded.

"Damn... I thought he had about as much techno savvy as dad..."

"Hey, Bobby can work a microwave... dad had trouble with a toaster..." Sam reminded him.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle, the sight and smell of smoke curling upwards from the wide slot toaster that decided it was a good idea to cook the little nylon curtains and their orange yarn pompons along with the whole bagel their dad had stuffed, (one whole into each of the slots) on that far away day.

"Where was that anyway? I feel like it was somewhere in Colorado..." Dean grinned.

"Right around four corners, there was a gateway there if I recall correctly..." Sam smiled, his smile turning to barely held chuckles, and finally full on chortles, "Man that nylon went up like nobody's business!" he laughed.

"And dad... with the sink full of dish water..." Dean snickered and chuckled hard, watching in his mind's eye his father trying to splash handfuls of dishwater, with a thick layer of pasta scum floating on top, onto those curtains that threatened to spread its hungry flames onto the walls and thickly painted cabinets of the tenement they'd sublet while in the region.

"Man that stunk!" Sam laughed clutching his stomach.

"Yeah... especially once it started bubbling from the fire... all cause you'd had enough of raviolios!..." Dean laughed.

"You're the one who left the pan soaking in the sink till it turned into a petrie dish!" Sam gasped clutching his sides, seeing their father pick up one of the pans in the sink, full of water and scum, the gnarled look on his face purely priceless as he caught a whiff of whatever was mutating in there before he tossed it up onto the curtains dousing most of the flame and setting off a chain reaction of stench that the boys later decided smelled like ogre farts.

Sam remembered Dean joining their dad at the sink, grasping a bowl from under the water and tossing up viscous snot-like trails of fluid onto the curtains. He also remembered laughing and clapping as his dad and big brother, his two best heroes thwarted disaster once more, then gasping turned to him, their eyes questioning for a moment that could have been synchronized before they looked at each other, at the sink and strings of melted nylon curtains then back to Sam.

"Half sausage half cheese?" John had asked as his youngest bounced in place clapping his hands and giggling and Dean dodged to the phone bringing the handset to him.

"Man that was awesome!" Dean laughed grasping his baby's steering wheel with one hand while pounding her dash gently with the other.

Sam doubled over in the passenger seat, clutching his belly as laughter rolled out of him, a song of sound Dean hadn't heard in far too long.

--

"... just do like I say Trevor... get that bitch over to Logger's Mile road, we'll be waiting," Herb Millstone directed, seething with fury that the Battle Maiden's bitch had gotten the upper hand over him. _The Mastress promised me! She PROMISED no one would EVER be able to make me do something I didn't want to again! She PROMISED... but that woman... that BITCH... she's powerful..._ he sighed while pulling up to the ambulance bay and opening up the back doors to accommodate his passenger, "That's okay... she served her purpose...I'll get mine? Bitch! You'll get what's coming to you, traitor..."

--

"...I'm still not sure I get it... I mean why us? Why now? Why these guys and not the yellow eyed demon?" Dean asked.

Beside him Sam shrugged, "I don't know... why is ANY of it us? Why _your_ patron? Why _your_ girlfriend? Why Alana and Jeremy Stebbins..."

"Seems a little against the odds to be coincidental don't you think?"

"Don't tell me you're starting to think there might be some design here... some kind of destiny?" Sam teased.

"... we make our own destiny Sam..."

Sam shook his head and shrugged again as the dull poke that foretold the coming of a vision made itself felt, "Alana can sense abilities... so I guess it could've been anyone...aaah damn... had to mention the demon..." his breath came hard as the poke became a driving stab. Sweat poured off him and he pressed the heel of his hand to the region of his third eye.

"Sam?"

"Vision...aaah... Dean..." he gasped clutching his head in his hands and sliding down the seat as a string of images played out in his head.

Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road and waited helplessly while his little brother suffered.

_He and Dean got out of the car, creeping through the woods on cats paws, crouched low, watching as a man dressed in a County Sheriff's uniform ushered Laura out of the back seat of his squad car, his gun trained on her. There was an ambulance parked in the clearing, a gurney with a thoroughly bandaged unidentifiable person propped up. Laura was shoved before the gurney. Words were exchanged, he and Dean watched tensely. He could feel the air grow thick with coalescing energy. The ambulance driver, the bandaged person and the Sheriff stood around and against Laura, something they were doing driving her to her knees though she was resisting. He and Dean nodded, broke from cover and with guns drawn approached the group. Attention turned to them, Sam felt something cool wash over him as he continued forward. In just a moment he realized Dean wasn't so lucky. In the couple of heartbeats it took for him to realize what was happening, that his brother was being 'pushed', he watched Dean's position change. He saw the sweat bead and run down his face as his big brother gritted his teeth and tried to resist. Before he could move, Sam heard the thunder, smelled the cordite and watched blood, bone and brain rain out of Laura's head. "No!" he heard Dean choke and watched his eyes fill and spill even while he saw himself reach for the elder hunter in an attempt to disarm him. He felt the bullet slam dully into his belly as he looked into the horrified expression on his brother's face. His perspective changed as his body fell and he could feel himself trying to tell Dean 'no!' as the man he'd always known as more of a mentor and father figure until recently, was forced to put the muzzle of the gun into his mouth and squeeze the trigger. _

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks,

sifi.


	14. Chapter 14

Darkfalling – chpt 14.

by: sifi

--

"GuuuuhNO!" Sam squeezed out between clenched teeth as the pain receded, the sweat stopped pouring and his heart rate returned to normal, "Oh man..." he met Dean's eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"No gun for you..." Sam shook off the last of the pain and filled his brother in on what he'd seen.

--

Laura felt the cuffs ratchet closed over her wrists as Officer Trevor Watkins squeezed them painfully against the sensitive bony prominences. He made sure to guard her head as he put her into the back seat of his squad car, there were people around and he had to keep up appearances after all.

--

"It's in motion..." Jeremy nodded looking into the eyes of his new master.

"Can you see where it will happen?"

"Yes."

"Go there now... make sure MY plans are carried out, NOT _hers_."

"Yes."

--

"So Trevor... how's it feel to live a lie?" she asked smiling.

"At least I haven't whored myself out to a false God..." he muttered wondering just how far her abilities went. _Herb said he could smell it a mile away... I gotta be careful. _

"Look, since you're gonna kill me anyway..." she started and saw his mouth open to protest, "Or... deliver me into enemy hands... there's something I just have to ask... Before you met Alana... had you ever had any kind of psychic experiences? I mean you're what? 45, 46 something like that right?"

"Forty six," he answered watching her as carefully as he could in the rear view mirror.

"It must've been latent, but it had to be there for her to 'influence' it out, to make it accessible to you right? Or is that where the drugs come in?" she asked, "I mean usually if there are abilities present, they're present in kids, but sometimes you know... life kinda teaches them to suppress 'em... was there ever a time you recall having had any psychic abilities?"

"Drugs? he asked.

"Yeah... Jimson Weed... Blackthorn... they're both hallucinogens and blackthorn has an amphetamine-like effect on the nervous system. I used to be a nurse..." she explained, _And they both cause... aw screw it..._ she thought yawning tiredly after reading his questioning look.

"What difference would it make if I had any kind of ... _thing_ as a kid?" he asked suspiciously.

"None really... I'm just curious... it's probably pretty rare for four people with such measurable and controllable abilities to show up in the same small town...and I saw Herb's deal with Alana when I dipped into him."

"Is that what you call it?... Dipping?" he asked.

"Yeah... I was born with mine," she divulged, leaving out of course the details of the last three or four lives she remembered living and that her abilities were the result of cognizant evolution. "So were you?" she asked again.

"No, the Mastress said she saw potential in me... who doesn't like to hear that? She said she'd help me develop it..." he told her haltingly though she could see a smile on his face, a memory of a hope that he was more than the sum of his parts. _Very true Trevor... who doesn't want to be more?_

"And she has... both for you and Herb...and Jeremy... being her son of course has abilities too... what happened to his father?" she asked.

"The Mastress moved to town already pregnant," he explained.

"Hmm," Laura sat back and closed her eyes, trying to make sure she didn't put too much pressure on the cuffs, she didn't need more pain. She shrugged internally realizing what she was about to do was pushing limits she'd never really tested before, but Dean had told her about Webber and how he could push without speaking and she wondered if she could dip without touching. _Well... here goes everything..._

"Herb said you can 'push' too..." he looked in the mirror and watched her head loll to the side, for all intents and purposes asleep. "Now if that don't beat all..." he chuckled, scratched his head and looked again, this time into her clear brown eyes.

"Show me!" she pushed, _I hope this works I hope this works I hope this works..._ the car swerved, "You believe I'm sleeping!" she ordered and looked down as blood dripped from her nose onto her shirt. Trevor's eyes returned to the road, his breathing leveled out and he kept the car steady while her mind filled with far more information from him, than she'd gleaned from sad, untrusted little Herbie.

--

From the edge of the tiny grove that rimmed Alana Stebbins' property a man peered into the yard, his eyes scanning the remnants of the house, the bonfire, and two wooden tables still draped in black canvas cloths. He'd watched the emergency crews work to put out the fire, and he'd seen an ambulance pull away from the curb though he had little idea who was inside.

Taking a hesitant step away from the trees he breathed air heavy with the scent of man made things that clung to the inside of his nose and made him want to cough. _I wonder why they left the altars alone?_ he thought stepping forward, his bare feet squishing with water, dirt and grass. Soot and particulate matter swooped through the air clinging to his pants and brushing at his naked chest, making him itch as he made a bee line to the remnants of the bonfire picking up a short stick along the way.

His brow furrowed and he brought the end of the stick to his nose taking a whiff, _What on Earth did they do here? What did they do to them?_ he wondered feeling tears film his eyes as he crouched and poked at the sodden ashes.

Many long minutes later, with gray ash bits clinging to every part of him his stick hit something hard and he held his hand over the spot making sure he wasn't about to plunge it into a pile of smoldering embers.

_Please no..._ he thought feeling his heart pound as the tears returned. His fingers slid into the silky pile of ash and felt something hard. He grasped it, pulled it out, the weight of the item telling him everything he needed to know.

He sighed wiping the strip of melted gold on his pants. He stuck it in his pocket and moved to the altars where beneath all the other odors, he smelled freshly broken wood and spilled blood. Moving between the tables he drew the cloths off them and the vision of who had been captive where filled his mind's eye. Another scent, clear and somehow salty came to him and he moved back between the head of the table Laura had been tied to and the bonfire where it was thickest. He dropped to his hands and knees, his face grazing the grass as he breathed it in and once more saw pictures forming in his head.

"No..." he breathed sitting on his heels.

"Yes..." came a voice that brought him leaping to his feet in a flash.

"You were banished..." he half questioned, half accused.

"...and now I'm free..." the voice replied.

--

"...but why pick these guys over all the other kinds of bad things they could've chosen to summon?" Dean asked.

"My guess would be because Jeremy could see them...somehow Alana found out what they are, but y'know how Alex only saw the gray ones?... which by the way I saw a few of them starting to feed on Jeremy... I don't know if it was the first time or not but they were... very hungry..."

"Make someone chew a hole in their hand kind of hungry?" Dean asked and shuddered as Sam looked at the quarter sized patch of scab on the heel of his hand.

"More like chew a hole through someone's body kind of hungry... the...gatekeeper..."

"Zuul?" Dean snarked with a wide grin.

Sam grinned and shook his head, "Would you get off the Gozer thing... I'm tellin' ya it wasn't Gozer..."

"Alright, alright sorry..." he chuckled.

"How many times have you seen that movie anyway?" Sam asked.

Dean thought for a second, then shook his head and shrugged, "A few...so..."

"So... this gatekeeper..." he held up a pre-emptive finger even as Dean was about to interrupt him yet again, "... it's prison... it's gatehouse..."

"Where it put you?" Dean asked.

"Yeah where it put me... gave it kind of access to our world so it could feed like the rest of those gray ones... but the ones that shot out once that door opened... I could feel their hunger... we have GOT to find a way to stop these things, round 'em up, ship 'em back..."

"Or kill 'em," Dean added.

"Yeah only I haven't seen anything about whether or not that can be done..."

"Everything can be killed or exorcised, we just have to find out if anyone's ever managed to do it before or figure out how to do it for ourselves. Sam can you see these things?" Dean asked suddenly.

Sam shook his head, "I don't think so... I mean I saw them while I was trapped but I haven't seen any since then..."

"So do you think these Igigi were what they were trying to summon or was there something else too?" Dean asked then added, "Aaahhnd... if there WAS something else... did they succeed? I mean you still don't know how you got out of there do you?"

Sam frowned and shook his head, that he couldn't remember how he'd gotten free and returned to his own world was driving him crazy, it made his stomach do flips and the thought of what he might have done, _what_ he might have bargained with, and _how_ he might have bargained for his freedom had him scared nearly silly.

"No I don't...Just that voice I told you about..." he took a breath and held it for a moment.

"And you have no clue who or what it was?"

"None..." Sam shook his head looking at his brother his face open with fear.

What?" Dean asked.

"What if... what if I made some kind of deal to get out? Something dark?" he asked.

Dean chewed his lip for a second and shot his brother a look, "Let's figure out how you got out before jumping to conclusions okay? Maybe once the door opened and it was all said and done... maybe that was it..."

"Best case scenario," he smirked then recognized the County Sheriff's car that shot across the road ahead of them with a familiar profile in the back seat, "Dean!"

"I saw..." the elder hunter nodded and took the right hand turn, hanging back far enough to keep from being spotted.

--

_Gotta get there, gotta get there, gotta get there... gotta stop this... gotta make sure this goes down the right way... God my body hurts...she's gonna kill them... can't let her kill them... gotta do this right..._ Jeremy thought racing through the woods towards Logger's Mile Road on foot, feeling the energy of events starting to culminate.

--

"Well this is certainly gonna be interesting..." Laura sighed wiping as much of the blood off her face and onto the shoulder of her jacket as she could. Herbie was standing at the back of his ambulance, next to an upright gurney with a heavily bandaged person belted securely in it.

"They've parked back by the road, they're going to approach on foot... there are others coming too..." the slice of Trevor's consciousness shook its head and winced, "Too many... too much... it's going to get jumbled..."

_What others?_ she asked wondering if there were other cult members nearby that might have been called on.

"I don't know... I just sense people..."

_People people or 'beings' kind of people?_ she asked.

"I'm not sure... people people I think...yeah... people people..." the slice nodded clearly troubled by this intrusion.

The physical Trevor opened the back door and dragged her out of the vehicle, pushing her toward Herb and the person on the gurney, _Is that Alana? or Jeremy?... Gotta be Alana... treated with that much reverence... gotta be... did Jeremy survive?_

"His body hasn't been found yet," the slice responded walking calmly beside her.

_How many others besides Sam and Dean?_ she asked.

"Two...three... three others..."

_Where are they approaching from?_

"I can't..." the slice frowned shaking its non-existent head.

_FOCUS!_ she commanded and winced as another floe of thick clotty blood splattered down her face. _Please just let me have enough to see this through, _her feet tangled up and she fell to her knees.

"Do it..." the words that came gravelly and hard from the bandaged countenance before her were unmistakable. Laura's eyes flicked over Herb, over the athame and chalice he held in his hands, _What? gonna drink more of my blood he-bitch? think it's gonna help you? nothing's gonna help you after last night..._ she thought angrily.

"What's the matter Alana? You afraid to die?" Laura snickered, tasting her own blood between her lips. The slice of Trevor had disappeared when she fell, dark fuzz encroached on the periphery of her vision as Herbie approached her with a chalice in one hand and an athame in the other. _Don't let me down Trevor... don't let me down... I need them here...gotta give him back his light..._

--

_Oh God, Oh God... I made it... _Jeremy looked out into the clearing while his newly enhanced inner eye sought the Champion and the Catalyst, though he knew now they were both so much more than either of those words encompassed. _There... just South... not even a hundred yards, and everyone's still alive... she hasn't killed them yet..._

--

Sam and Dean looked at each other, Sam pleaded with his eyes once more, _Please Dean, let me handle this... I can't have you get hurt... please!_ but Dean shook his head. He'd left everything behind in the trunk of the Impala, his knives, his gun, he didn't even have a taser on him. Naked without his weapons, his greatest defense was his faith in Sam, shining through his eyes as he twitched his head at the scene, waiting with his little brother for just the right moment. Neither man had an iota of awareness of what was being brought to bear for this moment nor why.

They watched Laura pulled from the car, watched her walk staggeringly toward the two who'd been awaiting their arrival. They saw her tense as if shouting though no sound was heard and they twitched when she stumbled and remained on her knees.

--

The ghostly image of Trevor Watkins flickered at the periphery of her fading vision. She indulged herself for a moment and sat full resting on her heels, "Before you kill me tell me something if you would..." she asked, her voice despite her exhaustion strong enough, she hoped to be heard by the boys, _How close are they?_

"They heard you..." Trevor's consciousness told her, his eyes fixed on the brothers who crouched in shadow only a few yards away.

"You told your boys here Sam was a catalyst, but even you knew that wasn't true... You were told the truth about him!" she chuckled, "Well... _ONE_ being's version of the truth. What he _wants_ him to be destined for... You even knew there was a demon involved! A REAL demon you stupid bitch! I'm betting it was the same one that set your house on fire last night and tried to gut you! Very likely the same one that TOOK your son!" Laura could feel her blood starting to heat as she finally let go of everything she'd been trying to sort through.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks,

sifi.


	15. Chapter 15

Darkfalling – chpt 15

by sifi:

--

Sam and Dean looked at each other, Sam holding his gun at the ready as they nodded together and stepped into the clearing, both of them more than just a little curious about what they were hearing.

"Now!" the slice of Trevor urged with a nod.

"Kill her!" Alana hissed, unable to see beyond a few feet in front of her thanks to the grievous wounds she'd suffered the previous evening. Herb stepped forward, flicked the athame into the ground, dropped the chalice beside it and drew his gun, training it on Laura even as Sam's was trained on him.

"He's _afraid of him!_ Don't you get it? Why do you think he wants him so bad?" she yelled furiously, forcing herself to her feet, pretending to be oblivious to the boys' presence as Herb approached.

Laura dropped to the ground, sweeping her bound arms out from under her body so they were in front of her, then rolled to her feet, her doubled up fists connecting hard with the oncoming Herbie, sending his gun spiraling into the lazily waving grasses.

--

"_Kill them!" _Jeremy pushed from the safety of the trees. He smiled as Trevor Watkins drew his gun and turned to Alana.

--

"No!" Alana shook her head, her vision clear enough to stare down the black pipe aimed at her head. In another second the barrel was gone and a tuft of scorched foam from the cushion of the gurney wafted in front of her eyes.

"No!" Sam called and collided with Trevor, disarming him quickly though the older man recovered, turning with the force of Sam's kick, bringing his fist full circle in what would have been an ear ringing roundhouse punch. Sam blocked, stepping forward, grasping the County Sheriff by the arm of his jacket and sweeping his legs out from under him. The older man was well versed however and brought the younger Winchester down with him, tossing him back, over his head, using his momentum against him.

"Sam!" Dean hollered holding Herb by the jacket as he caught sight of his little brother flying through the air. He saw Sam duck his head, extend his arm and dive into a sense saving roll that returned control to him and got him quickly to his feet to square off once more against the older man.

A bludgeon of a fist collided with Dean's temple setting off sparklers in his head, _serve me for getting distracted_ he thought as Laura got to her feet fighting back the growing haze clouding her sight and tried to find the other three Trevor had told her were present.

"Dean..." she gasped catching a glimpse of the slice of County Sheriff, whose conscious self was trading blow for blow with Sam.

Dean cast Herb aside and nearly launched himself at her, his hands fisting into her jacket while he gritted his teeth and tried to let go but found he couldn't, "Stop me..." he ground out.

Laura cupped his chin in her cuffed hands mostly to keep him from head-butting her as his posture and straining muscles told her he was trying to do, "YOU are in control of yourself..." she pushed while her eyes dove into his and her nose trickled again. "There are others here..." she said quickly.

Dean sighed, the conflicting messages easing from his muscles while he raised his thumb and swept at the trickle that ran over her lips. His expression was curious, then morphed into an almost comical 'O' of surprise as Herb grasped him by the back of the jacket and swung sloppily at his head.

"Go find them!" Dean urged blocking the blow then grasping the ham-fisted EMT at the back of the head to slam his face into his knee.

Her eyes fell to the bandaged Alana and her heart beat out a primal rhythm, _First thing's first..._ she thought grasping the gurney, unlocking the wheels and positioning it at the rear of the ambulance, all the while feeling rolling waves of cool and dull, achy pricking in the back of her brain as Alana tried to influence her somehow. Laura's head was spinning and her ears were ringing so even if the woman had been talking she couldn't have heard what she was saying.

Their eyes met; their wills clashed as that waft of cool moved out into the melee that was happening in the clearing, _Never again bitch! NEVER gonna hurt anyone! Never gonna hurt what's MINE...MY boys!_ she snarled completely feral, untouchable for her fury, "DIE!" Laura commanded, focusing all the will she had left on the he-bitch in her hands.

"Don't!" Sam called lurching to his feet on the far side of the clearing, his lanky frame speeding into the side of the County Sheriff just seconds after thunder clapped the air.

A dull thud slammed burning hot into her with enough force to spin her around and knock her onto her back as Alana Stebbins' eyes grew wide with her final gasping breaths as her heart simply ceased to beat.

"Laura!" Dean breathed. Fire lit in his belly and fury tore out of him, pounding his opponent into unconsciousness with a savagery that surprised him.

Breathless, his heart thundering with fear he straightened up, his feet wanting desperately to move in the direction of the ambulance. The corners of his mouth turned upward as motion caught his eye and Laura rolled shakily to her knees, then pulled herself to her feet with the arm that wasn't sporting a brand new bullet hole.

Less than twenty yards away Sam staggered to his feet again, nose and mouth running blood together, bruises blossoming at his eye, cheek and chin while a mysterious head wound poured a small river of red down the far side of his face. Taking a glance at Laura who nodded, Dean lurched and wove his way across the clearing assessing his little brother who looked to be barely able to stand.

"Sam?" he questioned.

"M'alright..." he muttered groaning with the motion of raising his arm so he could lean on Dean.

"Ribs?" Dean asked noting how tightly Sam's arm was wrapped around his torso.

"Mmm," he nodded as Dean switched sides.

"Bruised or broken?" Dean choked.

"Dunno..." Sam shook his head and stumbled as his eyes crossed and the world bucked.

"Hey whoa there..." Dean staggered under his little brother's weight nearly losing his grip.

"Goin' down..." Sam snarked feeling his knees buckle with the next step.

"No... No...come on..." Dean tried to keep him on his feet but felt his body cave to the moment as well.

"Aww screw it..." he mumbled as both brothers wound up on their knees, side by side, holding each other upright for a few deep breaths while they tried to recover some strength.

--

While Dean made his way to Sam, Laura did what she could to ensure that both Herbie and Trevor could never access whatever abilities Alana had brought out within them. She left them the memory of all they'd done, all they'd taken part in and how they'd willingly unleashed a plague into this world, but closed off from each of them any hope they had of becoming anything other than simple, normal, ability-less, human beings.

When she was certain their psychic pathways were closed, and with her head throbbing so hard she could feel her skull sutures grinding against one another. Her vision tunneled to toilet paper tube diameter she shambled to the boys, wobbling on her feet, blood drying in streaks on her face and clothes she took in the sight of these two men she loved so dearly.

"You guys look like hell..." she mumbled then held out her hand to Dean, "Gimme the keys... I'll go get the car..."

They frowned in unison, looked at each other, then at her.

Sam managed to flop one of his hands in her direction while looking at Dean, "...pot..." he said then motioned between him and Dean, "...kettle..." he smiled wearily.

Dean started to dig into his jeans pocket, smiling wryly at Sam's comment then thought about it, "Nuh..." he shook his head and wobbled, nearly bringing them both all the way down.

"Oh kay..." she sighed crashing to her knees then toppling onto her side with a sigh, "...tired..." as consciousness finally let go.

Once more the brothers looked at each other, sighed, started to try to get up, and looked at their passed out friend, "...looks comfor'ble..." Dean muttered.

"Grass _is_ thick..." Sam nodded.

"We really should..." Dean tried to persuade looking deep into Sam's eyes.

"We should..." he agreed.

They started to try and get up once more, met eyes again, shook their heads and collapsed into individual darkness.

--

Coolness outlined in warmth tapped at her cheeks and bright light filtered copper through her eyelids.

"You're not done yet... wake up," a voice she'd heard before instructed.

Darkness retreated from her eyes as they came slowly open then snapped closed. _God kill me now... even my hair hurts..._ she thought turning her head and opening her eyes once again. _Well it's still daytime...the sun's... the sun's... where's the sun... oh... still pretty much where it was before... okay then..._ she looked around noting that everything was as it had been when the fight ended. _Feels like a week passed and it wasn't enough... we gotta get out of here..._

"..aam... ean...?" she groaned trying to work some wet into her mouth as she rolled onto her not-shot side and crawled to them though they were already showing signs of rousing as well.

--

At the Route 43 Motel, just a few miles out of town Laura closed the door as Dean levered his baby brother into the room and put him on the bed as gently as possible.

"We need to get both of you a CT in the morning..." Laura urged, checking the wound on the side of his head as Dean pulled up a chair, "Before you sit... can I have a wet cloth?" she asked.

"Why both of us? I didn't get clocked like that for once?" he asked shambling to the bathroom as Sam's eyes opened then closed a moment later.

"You'll recover fully Sam..." she whispered stroking his matted hair off his face while noting, _Okay... both pupils are reactive... and equal... that's a good sign... _

Fiery pressure flared between her eyes and she quickly wiped away the newest trickle of blood, _Hey... least I can do is make sure the job is done right..._ she thought and sighed as Dean emerged from the bathroom with a warm, damp face cloth.

"The herbs and the blood, and the ritual... the mix is a psychic signal booster... opens channels if they're not open, cuts the doors off if they are... there's a possibility you guys might have experienced some, pinhole type of bleeding in your brains after having that crap forced down your throats..." she explained.

Dean frowned and opened his mouth to ask something at the same time Sam moved and his eyes came open again, he croaked dryly, "Water?" while pushing himself up onto his elbows then falling back.

"Sammy?" Dean passed a bottle to Laura then reached for his brother while she helped him drink.

He gulped at the refreshing liquid and smiled wanly at Dean, patting his hand tiredly, "Mm'okay... non't worry..."

"What'd he hit you with Sam?" she asked.

"Nothing..." he wiggled his head a bit, "...hit a rock..."

"Are you nauseous?" she asked.

He smacked his lips together a few times and frowned, "...nun't thingk so...hmm mm..." he slurred.

She did a few more rudimentary cognition and awareness tests, fed him some more water and propped him up so she could watch him sleep. They watched him for a few minutes, making sure his breathing was normal and even, Laura listening to his lungs to make sure all was as it should be. When she seemed satisfied Dean patted one of the chairs, and started tending her.

"What do I need to watch for?" he asked motioning at Sam while wrapping some gauze around her upper arm, the bullet had passed through the meat of her triceps, a lucky shot that could've been so much worse if it had gone just a little deeper to hit either bone or brachial artery.

"You... you need to sleep... you got the tar whooped out of you too..."

"And you're covered in blood cause it's a fashion statement?" he argued, "...AND we slept... you on the other hand got it in your thick stubborn skull to go waltzing right back into the lion's den and try to get yourself dead!... I knew you were reckless but that was just plain dumb," he reprimanded softly though his anger was obvious.

"Not now sweetie... please..." _Be angry with me when it's over Dean... till then... just let me love you by helping what you love... _

He nodded, focusing on her arm, "We heard what you said..."

"What do you mean?" she shook her head frowning.

"About the demon... do you think he had anything to do with all of this?" he asked.

Laura took a deep breath and sighed, "I coulda been wrong... it's just that when I dipped into Herb I saw him help Alana out of the rubble, she was babbling about cold burning eyes, and of course we all saw the house on fire, but she was ruptured across the abdomen, holding her guts in her hands when he found her... I just put one and one and one together...and she didn't deny it."

"You told her he was afraid of Sam... do you know what he wants with him?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No... but I have a theory..."

"Which would be?" Dean questioned.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling the space behind them throbbing, _Give him back his hope Dean... please... give him back his light..._ "I think Sam might be... kind of a fulcrum, a pivot point... and I think Big Bad believes that if he can get control over him, then he'll have a weapon in his arsenal that'll help him win the upcoming war."

"But...?" Dean urged.

"But... in order to gain control over him, he has to corrupt him... Sam's nature is good... both of your natures are good... but corrupt one, corrupt the other... how many times has Sam stopped you from killing?" she asked peering at him and watched him bite his lip as he dropped his eyes.

Laura raised his head with a finger under the chin, "You were a child Dean... you didn't have any choice... believe it or not, in this war that's coming?... what happened then has no relevance... but the fact that it still causes you that much pain... it's one of the reasons it's so easy to love you..."

He nodded looking into her eyes and swallowed hard, "Yeah okay...so what else?"

"So... you two balance each other out... neither of you will let the other kill if there's any way around it... and I know... it's how you were raised... killing another human being is the last resort of a man who's run out of options... and at the risk of giving you a swelled... upstairs head, what finer prize could a demon have than the corruption and control of that which _is,_ by its very nature, inherently good?"

"Well I'm sure as hell not gonna let that happen..." he snarled then dove into her eyes, "... and that's a damned scary theory for the record..."

She shrugged and cupped his cheek, "That's all it is Dean... just a theory... I'm sorry I got your hopes up that I might _know_ something... but hey... I could be wrong... it happens more often than I like to admit..."

"...might be better if you _are_..." he nodded.

"Yeah... might be easier on Sam if he thinks he's just one of any number of potential demonic foot soldiers... no one this young should have to bear that kind of burden..." she stroked the young man's hair and cheek with one hand and grasped Dean's hand with the other, "but at least he's not alone..."

"He'll remember hearing what we heard..." Dean thought aloud and looked at her, "It's just a theory right? You'd tell me if you KNEW anything for certain right?" he asked.

"Yes I would," she confirmed understanding why he needed to ask.

--

Dean looked worriedly at Sam, whose hand shook violently as he put down the coffee pot and picked up his gun, while squeezing his bleeding nose shut with the other as his big brother peered through the peep hole in the door. He glanced at Sam's waxy pale face across the table and saw him nod slightly, fighting among other things, the occasional vertigo that was the result of any rapid head movement. _She was right... I gotta get you to a hospital Sammy... you're scaring the crap out of me right now..._ Dean opened the door a bit, his face dressed in a curious frown.

There was something about the man who stood there. _Kinda reminds me of Ash..._ Dean thought, _without the mullet that is..._ as he realized their visitor was wearing a pair of brown pants and nothing else. No shirt and no shoes. _No service..._

"Can I help you?" Dean asked looking him up and down. There was something familiar about him, about the pile of dark curly hair, wet and disheveled atop his head and Dean was fairly certain he'd seen him before.

"Yes... let me in," he smiled as the light went on over the elder Winchester's head and he backed into the room, letting the shorter man pass.

"Dude! Where the hell are your antlers?" Dean smiled closing the door behind him.

"Good morning humans...I'm incognito..." he greeted cheerfully but frowned at the darkness in the room.

"Cernunnos?" Sam groaned incredulous.

"What're you doing here?" Dean asked.

"I'm here to save my emissary..." he said pulling open the drapes and breathing a deep lungful of coffee scented air with a huge smile on his face.

"Save her?... What?" Dean asked.

He nodded, "Yes... she's dying..."

"What?!" Sam and Dean chimed in unison.

"You humans move very fast..." he nodded pointing to the coffee, "May I?" he asked.

Sam nodded, regretted it, then slid the cup across the table.

"She's just sleeping... it's been a long couple of days..." Dean explained reading the look on the deity's face all too easily, "...but she'll be fine right? Right?!" he questioned, his fear plain to see as the God of fertility and rebirth sipped the black brew, his expression curious.

"I hope... I would be sad to lose her..." he nodded pulling the blob of melted gold that had been her torque out of his pocket.

He looked closely at Sam and frowned, "I see her influence didn't work..." he caught a glimpse of Dean's curious expression, "She tried to influence him to heal last night... but it didn't work... she was probably already close to finished or it might have..."

"What?... What're you saying?" Dean asked feeling as if he'd just been sucker-punched. He looked from Cernunnos to Sam who was white knuckling the back of the chair, and looking like he was going to fall over any second.

"I think she would say she's bleeding out in her brain..." he looked between the brothers, lines in his face etched deep in sorrow, "Like you're both doing," he motioned to Sam who flopped into the chair pale, sweating and still bleeding from the nose.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

Sifi.


	16. Chapter 16

Darkfalling – chpt 16

by sifi:

--

"Sam?" Dean questioned, his heart leaping into his throat.

Sam shook his head, "Just a little dizzy... there's time..." he smiled.

"A little," the Celtic deity agreed with a smile, "You're a brave young man," he said to Sam.

"No..." the younger Winchester shook his head, "I'm not... I'm scared, and tired, and..."

Cernunnos waved him off, "And yet here you are... the right human, the right place, the right time... if you don't die from this that is," he looked at Dean, "You should take him to a healer...soon."

"What about Laura?" Sam asked as Dean moved toward him.

"If she lives I'll tell her where you are," he smiled easily while his fingers worked molding, stretching and shaping the blob of melted gold he'd pulled from his pocket, as if it were nothing more solid than clay.

"No... I'll take her too... help me get her in the car... " Dean choked but the deity shook his head.

"It wouldn't help at this point," his tone was apologetic.

Dean shook his head, his expression stricken, "Bring her to the car... I'll get them both taken care of please! Help me!" he pleaded, his voice thick, choking on his fear. _I won't lose you Sam... I can't lose her either... _

"Humans can't help her now..." he explained and rose helping Sam to his feet while Dean grabbed their jackets and opened the door.

"This isn't right..." Sam groaned his protest, as blood poured in streamlets down his face, "Dean..." he stumbled and would've fallen if it weren't for the compact man who stood two heads shorter than he and managed to guide him out to the car with surprising strength and gentleness.

"I've got him... please... go help her..." Dean nodded once the passenger door was open and Sam was back in his grip. He turned his brother and made sure he was seated and belted securely.

"Okay..." Cernunnos nodded and grasped Sam gently behind the head, "Humans need you... you really should try to live..." and even though Sam's vision had receded and his eyes grew hazy and unfocused the deity knew he'd been heard.

He met eyes with Dean as the elder hunter started the car, "Drive fast," he admonished returning to the room, turning the gold between his hands, re-molding the link between himself and his emissary.

"Good thing they're strong," he muttered then shrugged and sighed, "You fear nothing except living... such a shame. Still, if you survive... don't forget to heal your man... the length of his life is no more certain than yours..." and again, though she was unconscious, he knew she'd heard.

--

"I'm afraid your brother's condition requires it... the pressure that's building inside his head needs to be relieved Mr. Starkey sooner rather than later... has he had any neurological effects... tremors, seizures, loss of balance, that you've been aware of?" the surgeon on call asked.

"Seizures... no... uh... not that...but he _was_ shaking this morning... yeah... tremors and dizziness too... but he took a hard hit on the head yesterday... hit a rock y'know..." Dean tried to explain while his heart pounded to get out of his chest and his head begged helplessly for some miracle, _You can't leave me Sam! You won't die you hear me? You're not allowed! You Will Live! _he willed then despite all his usual outward denials, indulged in another brief moment of pleading prayer, _God please... if you DO exist... if you give a damn about any of us... help him... you can't take him from me... please! He's MINE right? I mean he's ALWAYS been mine! I won't live without him... he's my kid! I raised him! Please... he can have anything he needs from me... please!_ he thought half terrified his prayers wouldn't be answered, and half daring to let himself believe they would.

The surgeon walked to the desk and handed Dean a box of tissues, "You've got a nosebleed... Mr. Starkey... what about you? were either of you exposed to any kind of unusual chemicals or suffer any kind of traumatic injuries aside from the attack you told me about? Did you eat anything out of the ordinary? Is there anything at all you can think of that might have affected you both?" he asked waving to one of the many people on the floor.

Dean shook his head, _If you only knew..._ "He was... we were... it's a long story..." he grunted wincing knowing Sam's injuries let alone his own if they were discovered, (and given how quickly the kleenex was soaking up his blood he was certain they would be), would out any lie he could tell.

"Better tell me quickly then..." he suggested as a wheelchair was brought up behind Dean and he was urged into it.

Nodding and nearly falling out of the chair for it, Dean filled Dr. H. Nabarre in on the tortures he and his little brother endured over the last couple days at the hands of crazy cult members from a town at the far corner of the state.

--

"Doctor!" one of the nurses called, "He's seizing!"

The emergency room staff moved smoothly into action, each team member knowing their job, moving confidently and urgently to save the life of the young man who they could see for the wounds on his body, had already suffered so much.

Dean lurched out of the wheelchair and stood at the entryway to the trauma room leaning heavily on the wall, his blood dripping through his fingers while his eyes dripped tears watching the men and women work furiously to save his baby brother's life.

_Damn you Sammy! Don't you give up on me! Don't you dare die on me...PLEASE... You HAVE to live... you HAVE to do you understand me?! PLEASE! _he begged inside wondering yet again if it was really he who'd been cursed, doomed to lose everyone he loved.

On his right, standing at the other side of the entryway stood a dark haired man in navy blue scrubs watching the drama unfold, his mouth bowed down, lips moving silently while his eyes never left Sam. Something in his posture was familiar to the elder hunter.

"What're you saying?" Dean asked narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the young man who looked to be about Sam's age.

Without a shift of his eyes he answered, "I'm just... praying for him...He's your brother right?" he asked.

Dean nodded and nearly face planted on the floor, "Yeah..."

"I'm supposed to take him up to surgery once they get him stabilized..." he explained, moving to Dean, sliding the wheelchair under him and yet somehow never taking his eyes off Sam.

"Thanks..."

"Welcome..." he nodded as the activity slowed in the trauma room and for a long, painfully tense moment neither man knew what was or had happened.

"He's stabilizing..." one of the physicians called.

"Thank you..." the man from transport sighed as Dean leaned back, his face waxy and pale and his breath coming short as he started to slide from the chair. "Little help here!" he called wheeling the big brother into the room where a few members of the trauma team turned their attention to him and hoisted him from the chair onto one of the remaining two empty gurneys.

"Get tox screens from both of them, they might've been poisoned... then get him down to CT... and get this one up to surgery! Page Dr. Montero for a wet read of the scan and get Dr. Ramsey back here, I don't care where he is, get him here... and call the OR, tell them to prep another room for that one..." Dr. Nabarre ordered as another flurry of activity started.

_It wasn't poison... it was necessary... though in retrospect it might have been a bad choice..._ Jeremy thought as he unlocked the brakes on Sam's gurney and with the ER nurse beside him headed toward the elevator that would take them to the third floor surgical suites as blood began to trickle from Sam's ear. With the line of red sliding down the young man's neck, soaking the pillow under his head he smiled, _Ahh good... it worked._

--

Jeremy pushed Sam's gurney through the double doors into the third floor OR and made a bee line toward Post OP. His instructions were to be as discreet as possible so he had observed carefully and taken the time to dress properly. A fact he was grateful for as the nurses, orderlies and techs going about their daily routines paid him no particular attention as he plugged in the young man's monitors and watched the lines and numbers display information that was foreign to him.

_Okay no bells or sirens or whistles going off... this is good_ he nodded to himself, his eyes comparing Sam's numbers with those on other machines around him. His eyes fell on pools of quickly thickening red, one in the cup of Sam's ear and the other on the gurney near his shoulder. Quickly he looked around and grasped a roll of gauze, using it to wipe away the congealing mass in his ear, he leaned down and whispered while tilting his head to the side allowing the blood to flow freely onto the gauze he packed under him.

"How's he doing?" a voice asked behind him, startling Jeremy into a spin while his mouth dropped into a large 'O'. A tell tale flicker of the eyes later he breathed easily and nodded.

"It's done," he sighed.

"Good... now go handle the other one."

He shook his head, his brows furrowing, "I thought you wanted..."

"MY way, no one else's... now go do as you're told."

Jeremy nodded, heading out of Post Op, leaving his new master with the young Winchester. He wanted to ask about the woman, the one who shared the light of the Champion and his patron, but when he turned to do so his master was gone. _Somehow I'm not surprised..._he thought and made his way down to CT.

--

Laura pushed herself along the wall of the basement level, her head still spinning, ears still ringing and still tasting the odd trickle of blood between her lips. She'd come awake reluctantly once her connection to her patron was re-made, and by his expression she knew her boys were in horrible danger.

"_You have to recover your strength... you have to rest..." _Cernunnos had urged but she'd insisted, rising against his hand, stumbling out into the bright light of early afternoon just wishing her head would explode and be the end of it all.

"_But what about Dean? You would leave him? I thought you love him?"_ he'd tried to goad, to get her dander up, to feed her will.

"_He'll be better off in the long run... I've served my purpose..." _

"_That's not fair to him... you two are bound through ages... you would make him go on alone? You would force him forward bleeding and broken? Missing a part of himself? I never thought you to be cruel..." _Cernunnos asked, for once his gentle demeanor beginning to harden.

For those questions Laura hadn't had any answer but he'd known what asking them would do. For the man she loved more than the relief dying would bring, she could live.

Jeremy held back, watching her slide along the wall toward CT1, most likely drawn by her link to the man, _What should I do? Do I let her heal him? She doesn't look like she can take three more steps... but she knows me... I could kill her...doesn't look like she'd fight it..._ he thought and decided to watch for the time being. _Maybe I'll let her spend the energy and then I can make it look like it killed her... that'd just drive him crazy! Heh heh... yeah... that's what I'll do. _

Laura peered into the room and felt her heart skip. _He's so pale... Oh God please... Please Dean..._ she wailed inside while biting her lip to keep from crying out. Without thought and out of long years of practice she threw down the bed railing and gathered as much of him as she could into her arms pressing her face to his, tearfully stroking his hair back and choking on the sobs that clamored against her throat.

"Heal sweetie... heal... you're gonna be alright okay? I promise... I'm gonna go fix Sam too... and you'll both be fine... Come on baby open your eyes for me please..." she muttered almost soundlessly into his ear.

"Excuse me... Miss you can't be here..." the tech called snapishly.

Laura looked up, tears brightening the blood that was running down her face as she pushed for love to live, and the tech slid a chair under her, leaving her be.

--

"...now you need to understand, none of you are out of the woods yet... the damage you experienced can have far reaching consequences, loss of function, memory, basic motor skills, physical impairment either long or short term..." Dr. Nabarre explained to the elder Winchester even though his eyes were closing.

"...but you don't know what happened?... How..." he grunted opening his eyes and instead of looking at the doctor, looked to his left at his little brother who remained unconscious in his bed, and despite the doctors reassuring words, who's recovery seemed, at the moment, less certain than his own.

Dr. Nabarre shook his head, "Mr. Starkey I'll be honest with you... I've seen a lot of miraculous happenings in my career, and while yours and your brothers' situation aren't necessarily at the top of the list... you're definitely real close..."

Dean nodded and looked at his brother once more, "Are you sure he's going to be okay?"

"He's not out of the woods yet, but...I'm pretty sure... It's going to take some time, and we'll need to do quite a few more tests before either of you are discharged but his last CT... looks better..." the doctor smiled and turned to leave.

"Doc..." Dean called rubbing his face with his hands, "...was there a woman here? Laura Finnegan?..."

"I'm sorry I can't discuss..." he began but Dean saw recognition pass over his face.

"Please... is she okay? Is she here? Is she alive?" he asked pushing back the covers and moving slowly toward swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

Dr. Nabarre smiled, "Well... I'm not saying anything... but if there was someone here by that name she might be in 545... across the hall, but I'm not saying anything..."

"If you were saying anything would you say she's gonna be okay?" he asked.

Dr. Nabarre smiled again, "If I were... I'd say she probably will... but since I'm not saying anything..."

"Gotcha..." Dean waved grasping at the IV pole with one hand and letting the Dr. pull him up with the other. He looked over his shoulder, "Be right back Sammy..."

--

Dean reached out, the sheet still warm where she'd been beside him just a few moments ago. His eyes opened, he knew where she'd be, exactly the same place he'd found her the last few nights. Dr. Nabarre had only allowed them to leave upon Dean's promise to have Sam return for exam every day for at least the next week. They had three days left and Dean was fairly certain Laura was exhausting herself to try to ensure that Sam was perfectly fit for life without physician monitoring.

Once more her head lay on his little brothers' bed, one of her hands holding his while the other rested on the pillow near his head. It was the fourth time in the last three days she'd pushed herself into unconsciousness trying to speed Sam's healing.

"Come on honey... that's enough..." he urged with his hand on her shoulder, starting to coax her to her feet.

"Huh... nuh...owe him...owe Sam something... lemme pay..." she muttered sleepily, tossing her arm over his shoulder and pressing her face into his chest as he swept her back into his bed climbing in behind her without breaking contact.

"Shhh t'sokay, just rest... get some sleep... you don't owe anybody anything..." he assured softly, his fingers stroking her hair from her face.

"I'm sorry sweetie... I'm so sorry..." she whispered once more as he wrapped her into himself. Not for the first time he wondered just what she had to be sorry about and why she suddenly seemed so much more reckless. _What am I missing here? Did I miss something that night? _he wondered remembering the talk they'd had after she returned from the sidhe universe. What he'd said to her that night that he'd never said to anyone else, how she'd brushed aside what had happened in Chicago, even then already feeling so far removed from the event. _What's got you hurting so much? Why are you so willing to push yourself to the limit? _he wondered pressing his lips into her hair while his arm pulled her tightly to him, molding her body against his.

"It's okay... it's gonna be okay..." he muttered against her shuddering breath.

--

tbc

Please R&R

Thanks

sifi .


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note: **

Before I take this any further I positively MUST, MUST thank first and foremost my two exceptional betas – Nevermore, and the Beloved Beist... without these two ladies behind me... without their constant encouragement... (and they'll attest I think... some of the chapters in this fic have gone through more rewrites than ALL the other chapters in ALL my other fics combined) this fic might've been left, quite sloppily for dead a long time ago! Their gentle encouragements made finishing this in a satisfactory fashion possible. And for everyone else who has been so kind and generous in their support, reviews and encouragement also... when you've reached the end... understand... if not for you... this wouldn't have come... and most certainly... not the way it did.

On that note... I hope you enjoy this final installment of Darkfalling... and I hope you'll let me know what you've thought about it.

I'll say it now... Thank you for coming out to play... and I hope you've enjoyed the ride.

sifi.

Now... let's get this under way shall we?

Darkfalling – chpt 17.

by: sifi.

--

"Don't be an ass Sam... siddown..." Dean held his brother still and guided him into the chair Laura slid behind him.

Breathless Sam sat, grateful his jeans were baggy enough to hide his coltishly shaking legs while he steadied his hands by gripping the arm rests.

"You guys are gonna drive me nuts with all this... coddling..." he shook his head.

"Deal with it dude," Dean said simply, taking control of the chair from Laura who smiled softly but held her tongue. "...you were minutes away from having a hole drilled into that thick skull of yours to take the pressure off that freaky blob you call a brain..."

"Yeah... not the only one..." Sam snarked holding up his hand and craning his neck to look back at women he was certain was responsible for his and Dean's rapid healing, "Did we say thanks by the way?" he asked.

"You did... and I told you I didn't do it... as much as I wanted to sweetie..." she sighed, leaned over and kissed his temple, "I never made it out of CT under my own power..."

He nodded, "No I know that... but I mean since then... and not that I'm not grateful but you really need to stop and let yourself rest..." he admonished.

She smiled and stroked his hair off his furrowed brow noting how well his bruises were fading. The gash on his temple was almost healed as were the majority of his cuts and scrapes, the lash marks from the whip were fading quickly and she'd rarely been more grateful for the ability to influence, except in the instances of John and Dean's welfare.

What neither man could prove was that during the night, usually once Dean brought her back into bed she turned her attention to him, urging his body to heal more quickly than average as well. She knew he would never ask it of her but so subtle was the work that she hoped he didn't realize it was the product of her influence.

"I will..." she smiled softly, the gray sacks under her eyes brightened a bit as she glanced at the older brother and shook her head.

While Louisa Fernandez put the boys through their paces in Physical Therapy Laura usually wandered up to the cafeteria for coffee and a donut. Today she found herself a small alcove that gave her an unobstructed view of the hallway and stood deep within its recesses, waiting for that man in the navy blue scrubs who'd been shadowing her and the boys for the last few days.

_Right on schedule..._ she smirked to herself confirming that it was indeed Jeremy Stebbins, and that she wasn't imagining things.

Once he reached her position she grasped him quickly, struggling to keep him subdued as she breathed into his ear, "You don't want to fight me," and guided him into the bathroom where she locked the door and released him.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"I'm here to make sure Sam and Dean recover," he answered.

"Did the yellow eyed demon come to you that night?" she asked feeling him struggle not to answer, struggling against the questions he was certain were coming.

"Yes..." he ground out, drops of sweat sliding down his temples, ringing his neck.

"You're the one who started Sam healing..." she surmised and could tell by the ferocity with which he began to grind his teeth she was on the right track, "Why!?" she demanded.

"He told me to..." he choked.

"Why? What does he want with Sam?" she grasped him by the shirtfront and pinned him against the wall.

Jeremy shook his head, "I don't know... he just wants them HIS way..." his breath started coming short.

"Them?!" she demanded raising her hand, her finger moving toward his temple, the words, "Show me EVERYTHING," spilling out of her mouth at the same moment. Her mind filled with light, and sound and dark bits; moments that had happened in the last six days, since Jeremy disappeared from his home. _Oh God no!_ she thought feeling his body heave a breath, watching his head fall back and wanting, but unable to cover her ears from the scream that coursed out of him as a horrendous stream of living dark dust burst from him to disappear out through the ventilation system to God only knew where.

Her scream twined around his as her mind seemed to twist and buckle, cramping in a way she'd never experienced before while the world jumbled, torn to shreds, his memories and those of whatever demon had been inhabiting him that she'd also managed to grab hold of before it escaped.

"Hey you okay in there?" a voice called while a fist banged on the door.

Jeremy rocked back, his eyes boring accusingly into hers, his hands reaching around her throat as she gasped clutching her head in her hands groaning from the sensation of a thousand awls being pressed into her brain all at once.

"Just saw a rat..." Jeremy grinned taking full advantage of Laura's weakened state.

He met her eyes and saw a cold smile spread across her mouth, a prickling started in the back of his brain, like an anchor dragging a river bottom and his grip on her throat loosened. Without the demon inside him, the ability to influence or 'push' was one he could scarcely dream of. Laura felt this, coughed and took a shaky breath, "You never have been, nor will you ever be anything other than an orderly. Your existence will never be anything other than ordinary," she grinned rising to her feet, "And that rat will haunt you till the day you die..." she shook her head and left the bathroom, weaving her way dizzily to the cafeteria to wait for her boys.

--

"I can't move..." Laura sighed contentedly slouched in the chair, her feet up on Dean's lap. She took one look at the restaurant debris layering the table and shook her head, "Nope... can't move..."

"Stuffed..." he agreed huffing out a lungful of air.

"A nap sounds real good right about now..." Sam added leaning back grinning with his arms behind his head.

"Mmm I can think of something better..." Dean snarked cocking his eyebrow questioningly at Laura.

"Well then you guys need to get a different room cause I ain't movin'..." Sam sighed.

Dean rolled his head back and let the chuckles roll out of him, "You really told him a non-existent rat was going to haunt him till the day he dies?" he asked.

Laura blushed, "He pissed me off... but to find out he was actually possessed..."

"Well that does explain why I had a vision in the middle of everything..." Sam sighed, "... but I still don't get it? Why actively take the step to use him to heal me instead of just possessing me? I mean Meg's body was pretty much dead...kept barely alive by the demon that was in her right?"

"I don't know..." Laura shook her head.

"Course it does fit with that whole 'corrupt them' theory you've got going...I don't mind telling you guys... I hope to hell you're wrong..." he motioned to her, "...but I kinda hope you're not too..."

"It could give you leverage somehow," Dean nodded eyeing Sam.

_Thank God..._ Laura smiled closing her eyes and breathing that much easier with the faint shimmer of Sam's returning hope, _Wonder what they'd think if I told them I think they're looking for the wrong pattern..._ she chewed her lip a bit, ever since Max Miller, and the boys finding out that he and Andy Gallagher both lost their mother's to nursery fires just like Sam had they'd been operating on the assumption that the "Chosen" children had nursery fires. _And that they were all born in 1982...hmm. Yeah... but so far they've met a couple who didn't...that guy Webber didn't have a nursery fire... and neither did that chick Ava... so... what if the ones who DID have a fire are the ones who DON'T FIT the pattern?_ she asked herself for the bazillionth time, wondering what they'd think if she brought it up.

"...and you still haven't found a way to kill or exorcise those Igigi?" Dean asked bringing her mind back to the moment.

_I really should bring it up... maybe once we get to Bobbys', then we can see what he thinks about it too._

"Nope."

"Uh, uh..." she and Sam answered together.

"Oh! Hey! I remember what I forgot... there's different color ones... I don't know if it means anything or if it makes any difference in the long run or anything but..." Sam shrugged leaning his head forward again, though he remained comfortably reclined.

"That's what you were starting to say before? Alex only saw gray ones... ones that feed on our weaknesses..." Dean nodded, "So... you're thinking that maybe some of these other colored ones might not be evil?"

"That's what I'm thinkin'... I mean... what if they're like... like people y'know? Some are good, some bad, most just wanting to go about their lives?" Sam shrugged and stretched over a precariously placed half full container of cobb salad, reaching for a beer on the far side of the table.

For a moment, as his fingertips found purchase on the grooved cap of the bottle all three of them were silent, waiting to see if he'd knock the salad over or succeed without incident.

Even after he had the bottle open and had taken a couple swallows, their eyes still went to the salad container, wondering if it was just waiting for the right moment to fall. With a wry smile Laura leaned forward and moved it to a more secure position breaking the anticipatory tension in the room.

"It probably would've fallen in the middle of the night and someone would get shot..." she shrugged.

"Mmm been there done that... Thanks Sam..." Dean smirked raising his beer bottle to his little brother who blushed furiously.

"My pleasure..." the younger hunter tossed back lightly making them all chuckle.

"So what are you guys gonna do?" Laura asked.

"You guys?"

"You guys?" the brothers chimed together.

She shrugged, "Hey I got places to go, evil to fight."

"I thought the plan was for all of us to go to Bobby's... where the wards are still in place... till we can figure out exactly what we're dealing with... what this impending pocky-clipse is all about... and now what if anything we can do about these Igigi?" Dean questioned.

"Hmm Thunderdome... excellent movie..." she grinned and looked at Sam who sat with the bottle between his fingers, deep in thought.

"What cha got cookin' up there Sam?" she asked rubbing his forearm gently, trying to bring him out of wherever his mind had taken him. By the look on his face, not really a happy place either.

He smiled tightly looking from Dean to Laura then swigged his beer, "Nothing really... just...wondering what the hell they thought they were doing... did they have any idea? Was Alana acting under any kind of influence from the yellow eyed demon? Or did that come after? And whatever they summoned... whatever it was that they wanted to free... they did it, it's out there with the rest of those things..." he sighed and shrugged, _...and it's my fault... you guys'll never believe it... and I know you're trying to get me to not believe it... but they used ME as a conduit, they used ME to cause you the pain that made that THING strong enough to let them out... _

Laura squeezed his arm gently, "From what I got from them... Jeremy included... I don't think Big Bad or his kin got involved with anything until the night the door opened."

"You mean the night I opened it..." he corrected.

"Aw come on Sam! Give yourself a break will ya? You act like this is all your fault... what did you ASK to be taken hostage and used in some frakked up wannabeblackmagic ceremony to draw out some ancient people even THEY didn't know how to control or contain? Jeez man... it's NOT your fault!" Dean insisted leaning forward for another beer.

Sam rolled his head on his neck, "You're right... both of you... but it doesn't change that I'm still responsible... if I didn't have this... THING... they couldn't have used me now could they have?" he insisted.

"No, they would've used someone else... most likely someone who isn't nearly as smart or strong as you are who'd most likely be dead right now, then we'd be stuck cleaning up the mess as usual... and there'd be deaths added to the mix," Dean surmised.

"So okay, no dead bodies..."

_Except Alana but you boys don't know about her yet do you?_ Laura thought listening to them and trying to stay out of it.

"...and we... well I made the mess that WE get stuck cleaning up... and who says we'd be the ones cleaning it up at all if it was someone else and I didn't have this THING... seriously Dean you think I wasn't BORN for this?"

"Aw man don't start that destiny crap again... I told you, YOU make your own destiny, there is NOTHING that's set in stone..." Dean challenged.

"Let's ask the expert..." Sam pointed to Laura who shook her head.

"Uh uh... no freakin' way am I getting into the middle of an argument with you boys... forget it..." she grasped another beer and moved to the foot of the bed with the laptop in hand.

"Come on..."

"Come on..." they practically whined.

"Dude!" Dean scowled.

"It's not my fault..." Sam shrugged.

"You guys have heard my theory... other than that I got nuthin'... I DON'T know... cause believe me if I did... I'd tell you..." she stopped sharply and looked between them both, "I believe in choice."

"Why?" Sam asked sitting back with his beer in hand.

"What's the difference between a sinner and a saint?" she asked quickly adding, "...and believe me I know you're only human... but get the point... it's about what you choose to do with the power you have..." she held up her hands to demonstrate balance, "Are you a Good Witch or a Bad Witch?" she asked in a startling falsetto.

"Wha... I'm not a witch at all..." he nodded playing the part.

"And yet... in the end..." she smirked as he smiled. She looked between the men, "Okay you guys go back to your fight... I'll just sit over here and be entertained."

"Had to use Dorothy huh?" Sam smiled sheepishly.

"You would've preferred Harry and Voldemort?" she asked.

"Let's see ...your hair IS always kinda messy... true you don't wear glasses... but you are kinda gangly..." Dean jibed.

Sam opened his mouth, held up his finger and shook his head as Dean spocked an eyebrow expectantly, "Nevermind, it's too easy..." Sam teased.

--

Two dots of yellow-copper flickered in the night watching the motel room across the street.

As evening gave way to the deep of night he turned his ephemeral head looking into the coffee colored eyes of the incognito deity beside him. "Do you see them?" he asked in reference to the swirling mass of dark gray beings that had coalesced above the motel room of the three hunters. Their diving and swarming into and back out of the room was almost a dance of darkness as they helped themselves in turn to the buffet inside.

"No, but I feel the growing cold...my humans...they're so vulnerable..."

"Yes, especially in sleep when their fears aren't so easily quelled."

"Why are there so many of them?" Cernunnos asked.

"They were drawn here to feast on the pain."

"Is there nothing we can do?"

Anunnaki nodded his head, "There's only one thing _I_ can do," he sighed opening his hand to reveal a group of darting lights. He motioned to the motel with a nod of his head and the lights zipped off.

The two entities stood side by side in silence as the faintest gray flickered in the night, strobing with impossible speed so that the sky above the room appeared almost pre-dawn as the greedy, starving gray Igigi were one by one forced from this world.

"Will they be able to handle them all?" the God of Fertility and rebirth asked.

"No... more will come, day in and day out until there are none left and all have returned to exile or been usurped to a side..."

"How long will that be?"

"How many eons exist in a universe my old friend?" the King of the Igigi asked, "Have you started with them yet?" he asked.

"No..." Cernunnos shook his head, "there's more at stake than most know... the other hunters, the demons, most of them don't know the full measure of what's coming..."

"Does HE?" the Ancient Babylonian asked.

"When the sidhe world fell... I'm fairly certain even HE felt it... I think that's why he saved Sam's life, and would have saved Dean's as well if Laura hadn't got there before his spawn," he grimaced.

"The effort may have been wasted..." Anunnaki winced, "Feel the boy..."

--

Inside the motel room Sam sat in his bed, elbows on his knees, swilling back another beer in one hand, his gun in the other. Thoughts, doubts, and despair running riot in his head, _I brought this out... it doesn't matter what they say... they don't understand, they didn't feel the hunger of those things... I'd give everything to be able to clean this up... this mess I created... everything that's mine to give..._ he amended the thought with a glance at Dean and Laura curled together, sleeping soundly, _They shouldn't have to pay for my failings. _He took the last swallow of that bottle and opened another drawing down the brew quickly, thirstily, _Max had the right idea... yeah it'll be a mess... and if there's a way to clean it up... to send those things back... they'll find it...but I can't be used to do more damage... it's not fair to them... to anyone...I don't think even Clarence could justify all the pain my existence has brought..._ tears rolled down his cheeks as he drew another long slug on the bottle, his eyes came to rest on the smoke black of his .9mm.

_Yeah... Max had the right idea..._ his breath hitched in his throat. Nodding to himself and tilting his head back he couldn't see the half dozen mottled and warped dark gray figures that hovered scooping his fears, recriminations, and doubts into their hungry maws, sowing the seeds of more as they did so.

_It'll be fast...she'll help him through it..._ he nodded setting down the bottle, flipping the safety off and pulling back the slide.

--

end.

Please R&R

Thanks.

sifi


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